Titanic Shadows
by Sladarodium
Summary: Richard Grayson is a run-of-the-mill teenager who is unsatisfied with the life he leads. Due to his parents' professions, he has had to frequently change school, residence and enviroment. However, when he is forced to move in with his uncle in Jump City, the mold is apparently broken by a series of mysterious murders making headlines...
1. (Yet Another) New Begining

Richard Grayson was trying to fall asleep in his seat. He had decided to skip sleeping during the night so that he would sleep in the train. Unfortunately, his plan backfired; he was exhausted with a relentless headache and nothing better to do than to wait to arrive to his destination.

Jump City.

The boy thought it was tragically funny how he would change schools and residence every so often due to his parents' jobs. Within a year, they would usually pack up and take Richard with them into the next city. This time however, Richard would be staying with his uncle.

Richard hadn't seen the man much, except for when he was significantly younger. From what he remembered, he was obsessed over his uncle being a detective and having the looks overall. Even so, he was rather uncomfortable with the fact that he would disturb an actually functional family. He wanted to bother his uncle as little as possible but was also grateful the man seemed genuinely willing to take him in.

Another reason for being reluctant to stay with his uncle was the fact that the man's wife had died recently, leaving him to raise their daughter Lisa-Marie on his own.

"Oh well," he exhaled, feeling a trace of relief in his chest. "I'll just have to do my best not being a burden."

When Richard was younger, he too wanted to become a detective or something along those lines. He wanted to become some sort of a hero, in essense. He kind off still wanted to, but had admittedly become a cynic over the years. Richard, for just a brief moment, wondered about the child inside him. Was it still there? Was it worth preserving? Probably a stupid thought, though. As far as most are concerned, Richard was still a kid, he mused. But it depressed him how his younger years appeared to be more intensive in emotion than the present.

And with such thoughts on his mind, Richard Grayson fell asleep.

…

"Attention all passengers" a raspy voice, presumably the driver's, spoke via the train's communication system "… we have arrived at Jump City train station. Thank you for travelling with us and we hope you enjoyed yourselves…"

"About time!" Richard yawned and hurriedly put his unfinished book into his backpack. As people had started to stand up from their seats and fill the hallway, Richard had to wait a bit before he could grab his red haversack and go out.

The boy walked out of the train to find an enormous train station. Watching the bulk of people, he realized he wasn't sure where to wait for his uncle. Richard stood around for a while but, growing bored, he decided to wander around just to get his hands on a snack. Entering the station's general store, he couldn't help but notice a large volume of pinned newspapers. He stood about 2 other people and begun skimming the front pages. Most were about increasing crime rates and petty gang wars while the rest had to do with musical artists and their antics.

"Hey! Richard!"

As Richard turned around, he saw a man alternating between a walk and jog towards him. A little girl was following the man timidly. Indeed, there was no mistaking it who those 2 were. He waved in response and walked a couple of steps towards the man. When they met, they exchanged a firm handshake.

"Richard! Good to see you!" Heh, you've grown into quite the man, I must say!"

"Don't we all?" Richard couldn't help but smile. He noticed his cousin timidly looking at him behind her father's trousers.

"Uncle Leonard, thanks for taking me in by the way" He continued, expressing genuine gratitude.

"No problem kid. And by the way, this is your…" Leonard laughed as he tried to encourage Lisa-Marie to come face to face with Richard. The girl reluctantly came before Richard's blue eyes, looking at the floor.

"… Cousin Lisa-Marie" Leonard continued.

Richard, wanting to put an end to this awkward silence bent his back and put his hands on his knees so that he would be face to face with the little girl.

"Hello Lisa-Marie. I'm Richard. Nice to meet you!"

"H-hello" said the little girl timidly.

"Well guys, how about we head home? As for you Richard, I'm sure you're either hungry, tired or both."

And with such words, Leonard gestured to what Richard assumed was the direction towards the car. Holding Lisa- Marie by her tiny hand, uncle Leonard eventually led his nephew and daughter to his black S.U.V.

"Hey Richard, why don't you give me your baggage, so that I can put it in the trunk? In the meantime, you get comfortable in back seats, alright?"

"Uncle Leonard, once again, thank you…"

"That's Leo to you. Or uncle Leo if that's what you prefer. Leonard is not a bad name but it makes me feel old. You'll understand when you're my age."

Richard just nodded, but his mood had already improved considerably.

A few kilometers away, an abrupt stop forced the sleeping Richard awake.

"When did I fall asleep?" he thought.

"Richard, are you alright back there? You kinda collapsed on the seat" said Leonard with a chuckle escaping him at the last 3 words.

"Right… I was pretty tired I guess…"

"Seemed so. Why don't you and Lisa-Marie go out for some fresh air while the car is re-filled?"

It was then that Richard had a better look at their surroundings.

They had apparently stopped at a fairly mundane gas station.

"Leo!" A young employee walked towards Richard's uncle in a greeting fashion. "Burnt all the gas already?" he continued with a harmlessly mocking tone.

"The damn thing vanishes like smoke, can't help it. Have I ever mentioned my nephew Richard by the way? He'll be staying with us for the year."

Before the gas station employee could speak back, Richard approached somewhat reluctantly for a handshake.

"I'm Richard. Pleased to meet you."

The man gazed at Richard for a second, like he was evaluating him. Finally, the muscles of his face started to twitch into a warm smile.

"Jacob" he said, responding with a firm handshake.

"Quite the grip you have there, Richard" he continued, "do you lift or something?"

"Well uh, no-not really"

"Well, if you are ever in need of a job, we could use someone like you. My boss is on the lookout for a partial employee."

"He will definitely think about it, although working at a gas station is somewhat dangerous nowadays" interjected Leonard, while Jacob moved to give the car a re-fill. Richard had totally forgotten about the fact that his uncle was a police officer. He wanted to ask all about the profession, and he would to see to it if he remembered to do so.

"Typical cop icebreaker" Jacob laughed heartily. "Is it really that bad, Leo? It would seem like you're the perfect person to ask."

"Things aren't that bad currently and certainly are under control, but crime rates are on the rise lately. I'd be lying if I said that doesn't concern me." said uncle Leonard with a stern look on his face. He then had a look around and, noticing Richard's thoughtful expression, he added "nothing to panic over, but better safe than sorry, am I right?" he then winked as if to reassure Richard.

By the time they had reached Uncle Leonard's house the sun had already set. Richard was woken up by Leonard and then the both of them considered to exit the car as silently as possible.

"Ok Richard, these are the house keys." He handed Richard the keys and the proceeded to open the car's trunk.

"And this is your bag. I'll get Lisa-Marie to bed. Get comfy and grab something to eat if you'd like. Or you can go straight to sleep since your bed's ready."

"Right! Thanks! Umm, do you need help with anything?"

"No Richard. Maybe starting tomorrow."

Richard walked into the room fighting exhaustion. He vehemently searched for his pajamas (making somewhat of a mess, too) and burrowed himself under the warmth of his sheets. Needless to say, he quickly fell asleep.

...

His initial dreams were mumbled like always. One could find traces of aspirations, memories, hobbies and fear in those dreams, masked under the guise of pop culture and a young man's imagination. And yet, an alteration had occurred within him today which no matter how slight led to the boy's first nightmare in years.

He was walking in a dark sewer, his steps disrupting the eerie silence. He was moving as if out of instinct to what it was that called him. The exit. He knew when he had reached the final passage. He knew with absolute certainty. So, when the dim light from the outside world reached his eyes, there was no response. No relief, satisfaction or accomplishment.

When Richard had reached what appeared to be an empty city block devoid of life, he couldn't help but notice the overwhelming thick fog that deviously started to creep around him and inside of him. The dreamer just walked on, up to the point where the fog would obscure the buildings and the cars. But Richard could still see in front of him. So, he walked.

"You have come this far. Yet, do you know what you seek?"

Richard frantically looked around for the originator of the voice. Slowly, he was beginning to attain greater consciousness. There couldn't have been a worse time for that to happen. He was very afraid.

"Do you even seek anything?" the voice had an unmistakable faint flavor of irritation, with an alien interest seeping from it.

"Who are you?" came Richard's response. It was the most logical but also the most futile question.

"You'll have to come to the truth. Not the other way around."

By now, Richard was trying to locate the source of this alien voice and reach it, ignoring his fear and perhaps disgust for the otherworldly nature of the voice, under an influence like no other before it. As he started to take a better look at his surroundings he was taken aback by the horribly grotesque environment. It was a mass of grey and black in the form of a desolate and depressing city.

Although Richard thought it looked post-apocalyptic in a rather cliché way, the dream's intensity weighted down on him like a guilt or qualm. Richard, while cautiously walking to where his instinct guided him, started to reflect his most horrible memories; all those instances where he put down his parents and disappointed them, the fights and the times when he didn't want to be alive anymore. All the while, his mind would anticipate monsters jumping down on him, but fortunately nothing of the sort happened.

Eventually, his steps led him to what appeared to be a mundane high school. He pushed the outer door open and felt the fog thicken as he wandered the school playground. His instinct driven completely numb for the first time ever since the dream began, he aimlessly inspected the area more thoroughly to find graffiti on the walls and destroyed water taps. Having nothing left to do, he gathered his courage and reluctantly entered the building, its door unpleasant to his touch.

The school felt empty and awfully damp, with water drips echoing along the hallway and breaking the silence. Despite the darkness there was no fog, ultimately resulting in better visibility than outside. Richard managed to regain his composure somewhat, but as soon as he took another step an ominous chill grasped him, terrorizing him.

He stood there, contemplating what he should do. The temperature was falling rapidly, to the point where his exhales were visible like in a chilly winter day. Eventually, he decided to finally make a move, and walked extremely slowly to end of the hallway. He turned to his right to find a featureless silhouette far ahead of him at the end of the next hallway, just standing there.

He froze instantly, his eyes fixated on the horrifying figure. It was completely motionless and Richard could almost discern something like TV static on it, making the whole sight extremely unnerving. Despite his overwhelming fear, his feet were stuck on the floor, and Richard dared not make another move except running away as fast as possible; for he feared it would provoke the silhouette to do something horrible to him. After what seemed like hours, a question escaped his lips.

"Who are you?"

To which the figure responded:

"Let's see if you can find out."


	2. The Knight's Castle

Richard opened his eyes slowly, as he gradually became awake and more conscious, his head lying sideways on the pillow. He took his time to enjoy the chirping birds and the intruding sunlight. Judging by the light level, Richard came to the conclusion it probably was early noon. He shifted in his sheets enjoying the feel of the comfortable fabric, and impulsively turned on his back to stare at the ceiling and commit the peculiar nightmare to memory. Details were slipping off already, but Richard was intensively processing whatever he could remember. As it turned out, that mostly boiled down to the fog, the city, the school and the silhouette with the mysterious voice that had decided to haunt him for some inexplicable reason.

He elevated his torso and sat on the bed to better collect his thoughts. Truth be told, he was feeling far better than yesterday and despite the fact that he had no incentive to leave bed yet, he thought it to be wiser of him to get up and not abuse his uncle's hospitality. He inelegantly removed the sheets that were covering him and stood up swiftly (if a bit abruptly), his feet causing the wooden floor to audibly complain under his weight. Richard however had spent most of his childhood in rooms with similar floors and had grown quite accustomed to the particular sound.

He gave the room a thorough look, seeing as he hadn't managed to do so yesterday. The bed was adjacent to a wall behind him, occupying fully one of the room's corners. In front of him, there was an empty wooden bookcase and to the left, an elegant wooden desk, the 2 furniture's flattering each other via their similar color and texture. The particular wooden desk also had direct access to a window, showering with it with sunlight. Richard thought it was weird that, in all those years, most of his desks had him face a window, but had come to enjoy it or at least tolerate it by now. Finally, he noticed a bedside table that was half a meter away from the bed's end, crowned by an old TV which clashed noticeably with the rest of the room. Richard was not one to complain about such a trivial matter, though. He was only a guest.

Bizarrely, Richard couldn't help but feel unusually comfortable in this room, considering that this was his first morning as its occupant. He never enjoyed all those times he was forced to move and call another building "home", and new rooms always took some getting used to. The same would be true for this one as well, although it was cozier than most. He unexpectedly felt a bittersweet nostalgia overwhelm him and he came to the conclusion that the room somehow reminded him of his childhood. He could easily recall playing with blocks or being read a story in similar rooms when he was way younger. Richard wasn't particularly fond of the fact that he was nostalgic for his early childhood. To him, it felt like a weakness. And yet, he immensely enjoyed all those times when objects or circumstances had caused this unique feeling to resurface within him.

He stood there for a while, lost in thought and memory when he finally decided to it was time to head downstairs. He moved with apparent reluctance; it was probably late and he would inevitably make a not-so-great first impression. Nevertheless, he decided it would be more respectful to just go downstairs and say hi, instead of being woken up by the family at a later hour.

He opened his room's door slowly, hearing confusing, faint voices as he descended the staircase. He paused and gave a listen, before coming to the conclusion that it was in fact television. Continuing rather timidly, he finally came into uncle Leonard's view, who was seated by the kitchen table enjoying a cup of coffee or tea, newspaper in hand.

"Richard!" he greeted lively, "To be honest, I was contemplating waking you up earlier today but I decided against it. Figured you'd need to rest. Did you sleep well?"

Richard awkwardly scratched the back of his neck brainstorming an appropriate answer.

"Yeah, I slept very well actually… thanks for asking!"

"Glad to hear that! Coffee or tea?"

"Umm, tea would be nice…!"

"Coming right up!"

Richard got seated and took his time to inspect the house in greater detail. The staircase he had descended led to a large hallway that led to the door with direct access to the kitchen and living room, which were only separated by a mere bench with a marble cover. Moving his gaze over to the living room, Richard found a thoroughly captivated Lisa-Marie watching television on the couch.

At that moment Richard inadvertely recalled an important detail; uncle Leonard's wife had passed away about a year ago. He wondered how exactly it had affected the rest of the family at the time and how it had shaped the family as to be what he was now seeing. He discreetly began scanning the house for evidence or "clues" that pointed to the woman's prior existence in this house. When his short effort was met with failure, all sorts of ideas started running through his mind.

Why was there nothing indicating the fact that another person used to live here? Richard had never lost a loved one and didn't consider most movies to be a realistic portrayal of reality, thus he could only speculate as to how someone would deal with loss a day or a year later after the fateful event. He eyed uncle Leonard, who was preparing tea for him at the moment, lost in thought; could this man have forcefully erased all proof of this woman existing? Was it some sort of under-the-rug truth of the household? Was it for the sake of his mental well-being? Or was it for the sake of his young daughter who couldn't hope to comprehend the complexities of reality? Richard gazed down at the table with an intense grimace disfiguring his features; he knew nothing about the circumstances and had absolutely no right to judge.

"Andddd… here's your tea…!" said uncle Leonard, placing a smoking hot cup in front of his nephew.

Richard played around with the submerged spoon a bit, stirring the contents of the cup and watched as uncle Leonard proceeded to sit down and read the rest of his newspaper. His curiosity got the better of him, and Richard attempted to discreetly read the title of the article that had captured his uncle's focus. It was similar to the ones he had read at the train station that had to do with the emergent gang conflicts during the last months, and thus Richard was reminded of several questions he wanted to make; what is it like to be a police officer, and why had uncle Leonard refused employment at the gas station for him? He played with words in his head trying to arrange said questions as properly as possible, but was distracted by a most catching melody suddenly emerging from the TV, and Lisa-Marie's cries of excitement.

"…come visit Junes electronics department store for top-notch devices in…"

At this point, Richard could see uncle Leonard audibly re-adjust his newspaper with apparent irritation.

"Everyday is great at your Junes!" chanted the TV and Lisa-Marie in unison.

"Dad!" Lisa-Marie addressed her father, "when are we going to Junes? I wanna go to Junes!"

Uncle Leonard ran his hand through his hair, omitting to look at his young Daughter, "Lisa please! One day doesn't go by that I do not hear about that blasted Junes place! What's so great about it anyway?"

"Dad, Junes is awesome!" replied Lisa-Marie, emphasizing the last word, her eyes practically sparkling with excitement.

Uncle Leonard, noticing Richard's expression of interest and wonder, elaborated: "Junes is a department store downtown that Lisa can't get enough of… I swear that thing must be enchanted or something…"

Richard instinctively turned to face Lisa-Marie as if to receive confirmation, encountering her wildly-grinning face.

"Besides" uncle Leonard continued, "today we'll be going to the fair and you'll get the chance to show Richard your favorite games, provided he can come of course. Much better than Junes, am I right?"

Lisa-Marie, faced with what probably was a difficult question, pouted and refrained from answering, indulging herself in further channel browsing.

"So Richard… me and Lisa were planning to go to a fair in the suburbs this afternoon. Nothing particularly crazy but it's a nice change of pace. What do you think?"

Richard took a sip from his tea; it still was a bit too hot for his taste.

"Sure!" he said.

"Great! It's hours ahead in time so we'll have all the time in the world. By the way…" uncle Leonard continued in a sharply questioning tone, "I presume school begins in a couple of days as does Lisa's, correct?"

"Yeah, that's right…!"

"So is there anything you need in regards to school gear? I'm asking primarily because I was thinking of shopping for Lisa anyway…"

Richard never was particularly a fan of any conversation (especially with an adult) steered towards school. He always felt like was being secretly evaluated as a student in such conversations and although he was quite good, he could definitely be better. Richard had a knack for assimilating the subject at class easily but completely lacked any sort of drive to spend time at home in order to revisit a school subject. Long story short, he wanted to be done with this conversation as soon as possible.

"Eh, actually I've brought with me everything I needed…"

"Alright, good good…!"uncle Leonard was lost in thought for a moment, before going on with the association, "if you need anything don't be shy to ask, alright?"

"Sure, uhm…" said Richard, brainstorming ways to change the topic into what he wanted to ask since yesterday.

"So about the crime rates… what's going on?" asked Richard with apparent curiosity.

Uncle Leonard put his hands on his cheekbones, his elbows on the table supporting his head, his face disfigured by an intense frown. After what was no longer than a second however, he relaxed and took a sip from his cup, reminding Richard to do the same.

"It all started a few months ago. The FBI was on the trail of a successful drug dealer who was aiming to turn Jump City into his new great market. When we caught wind of someone new on the streets, we started devising a plan to get him…"

At that moment, uncle Leonard took yet another sip from his cup and gazed aimlessly at the TV with a blank look on his face. It took him a couple of moments to gather his thoughts and continue.

"As usual, the FBI had their own plans and methods, leading to an ugly conflict between them and us. What already was a difficult situation, seeing as the man was no newbie and knew how to slip past law enforcement, became even harder by both sides being completely unprofessional. We were both correct, in a way. It was our issue since it was our city, but also their issue since the man had committed crimes across states…"

The narration had Richard at the edge of his seat, absorbing uncle Leonard's words. Not only did he think the subject was very interesting, but also appreciated the fact that his uncle was willing to reveal information to him that he probably had no business knowing.

"So Richard, to answer your initial question," continued uncle Leonard, "the gang conflicts began at around the time we were busy with this drug dealer person. Obviously we had far bigger fish to fry, so we paid little attention to a couple of minor wrongdoers here and there. Unfortunately however, the lack of response from our part must have given away the message that whatever they were doing was ok. This led to a frantic escalation up until a week ago when a young man, around your age no less, died from knife wounds. There are a couple more important details which I'm afraid that I can't share with you; at least not now. Anything else?"

Richard utilized the momentum he had already gained from his previous question, and taking a sip from his tea (which was cold and distasteful by now) inquired:

"Ehm, uncle, why did you refuse the gas station employment for me? Does it have to do with those gang conflicts?"

Uncle Leonard smiled as he decided to lay down his arguments.

"Well, for one it's quite far away from home, at least for someone like you who doesn't have a car. The area also lacks access to the subway. Secondly, gas station workers tend to work at late hours and are frequently on their own, and thus are susceptible targets for anyone who wants to approach a person solo. If you ever get work around here you should be able to easily get home, either by foot or the subway or –"

As uncle Leonard was about to elaborate a bit more on his arguments, his phone started ringing, making him comically fumble as he tried to reach for it.

"Who could it be? Damn it…"

Richard relaxed, pressing his back against the chair. Out of curiosity, he shot a quick glance towards were Lisa-Marie was sitting, and was taken aback; she was staring at her father who now was roaming around the house talking to his phone, almost angrily. Richard quickly shifted his gaze on his half-empty cup of tea, somewhat troubled and in thought.

When Lisa-Marie noticed her father return back to the table, phone nowhere in sight, she asked:

"Dad, will we go to the fair?"

"Yeah," said uncle Leonard, running his hand through his hair in mild frustration, "we will."

…

It was 30 minutes into the ride to the fair when uncle Leonard announced they were close. Not that Richard minded; he was far too preoccupied enjoying the view and the late afternoon breeze. The radio was playing old rock and blues tunes with uncle Leonard commenting all songs that he could remember something about. Richard and Lisa-Marie settled to mostly listening with the former recalling childhood memories of trying to play his handheld Video Boy in the passenger seat, relying on the street lights to see into the barely illuminated screen of the handheld.

When the car entered a gravel-covered road, its feel and sound were significantly different than that of the asphalt. Richard assumed it signified that they were almost there now and indeed, it wasn't long before uncle Leonard dramatically announced that they had reached their destination. His statement was confirmed by lights here and there, a mass of people occupying space and moving about as well as a plethora of parked cars.

"Alright…" said uncle Leonard (mostly to himself than anyone else) as he was parking his massive, black S.U.V, "let's put it… right… here…"

Richard and uncle Leonard got out of the car followed by Lisa-Marie who was quick to adorably decree that they would be playing bumper cars first.

"Not a chance, princess!" interjected uncle Leonard, cancelling out her royal command, "We're getting cotton candy first!"

And so they did. After grabbing one cotton candy stick each, they wandered around going from stand to stand, checking out the less known fair games and the low price merchandise.

Unfortunately, what originally was a quite jovially mood was quickly darkened when uncle Leonard's phone rang, putting a target shooting game at hold. He cursed under his breath in frustration, with Lisa-Marie adopting a much somber look, unfitting for a child her age. Richard speculated that sadly, she was blaming her father for this. She was too young to fully understand the complex situation, and expecting her to do so would be unfair on her.

"Grayson here… ok… yeah… just give me a minute…" uncle Leonard removed the phone from his ear and addressed his nephew:

"Richard, could you please take her round the fair? It won't be long before I'm done with this…" he produced an awkward smile and jogged towards the edge of the fair, phone on ear.

Richard dreaded to look at Lisa. When he finally did, he found her staring at the ground before her with an unreadable expression. Although it didn't make things any better, he did have an idea of how she felt; for he too had been refused his parents by such circumstances when he was younger.

"Hey Lisa… dad's gonna be back soon… what do you say we go to play bumper cars…?"

"I-I don't wanna… I wanna go home…"

Richard's poker face was hiding the fact that he was at an utter loss in regards to how to handle the situation. He frantically looked around, his brain overheating itself in effort, when his gaze fell upon what probably was his best shot.

"Well, I don't know about you Lisa, but I feel like having my future revealed…"

Lisa did not respond, but showed no resistance to Richard leading her to the fortune teller. The woman was wearing a red bandana around her head, complementing her distinct features remarkably well; long, wavy, black hair, a big but still elegant nose and a couple of wrinkles here and there. The woman appeared as if she was in her late 40's. Richard thought that, at the very least she had gotten the look right; she definetely gave the impression she was magical.

As they approached the woman's workplace, she smiled politely at the prospect of the two of them (as Richard theorized at that moment anyway) being customers.

"Hello there young ones," she said with a captivatingly deep but still feminine voice, "I assume you have been attracted to my table because you want to peek into your futures?"

"That's right!" said Richard.

"Hmmm… very well… but you must make a promise first…" replied the mysterious woman.

"Wha-what sort of promise…?" asked Richard, thoroughly surprised. Lisa on the other hand, had by now completely forgotten that she was pouting, her attention solely focused on the promisingly intriguing lady.

"You must agree to take responsibility for the consequences of your actions, boy…"

…

When uncle Leonard had finally found his nephew and daughter after taking care of the urgent phone call, he was relieved to find them side by side, happily eating candy.

"Hey guys! The deal's been taken care of," he announced with a smile, "what did you guys end up doing?"

"Dad! A magical lady told Richard his future!"

"Wha…! Really now? What did she say Richard? Are you getting rich anytime soon?"

"We won't tell you!" said Lisa sticking her tongue out, "if you hadn't left you would have heard!" she finished with a grin.

"Oh damn… now I really was I could have been there with you guys…" uncle Leonard pretended to be heartbroken, while winking at Richard. "So, did you guys visit the bumper cars, or…"

And with such words, the family parted to enjoy the rest of the day. Lisa however, was momentarily left behind when she spotted a beautiful, blue butterfly flying around. It was only for a moment though, her father's commanding voice urging her to quickly to join the rest of the family.


	3. Academia Garden

The last couple of days were characteristically tranquil and lonesome for Richard. He didn't mind loneliness and, on the contrary, he would often seek it when things when south in social endeavors or something was bothering him. Sometimes, Richard caught himself wondering whether he was too introverted for his own good and, if yes, why. He did spent a significant amount of his early childhood playing with other children, but there also were occasions he had to spend a lot of time alone, increasing in magnitude as he grew older. Perhaps such circumstances were the cause for him being shaped into a pseudo-introverted being; for there were times he craved for social interactions, regardless of the fact that he refrained from acting on the need. Sometimes he wished he could handle social situations more comfortably, and bitterly speculated that if he hadn't spent so much time alone when growing up, he would be in a better position in that regard at the present.

With such thoughts occupying his mind, he repeatedly made sure he had locked the door to his uncle's house properly and proceeded to put the keys in his left pocket, praying to gods known and unknown he wouldn't lose them no matter what. He began daydreaming what school would be like. Would he make any friends? How are the professors going to be? Austere? Lax? Would they inspire him, or push him further away from the particular subject? He decided that, no matter what, he'd have to make an honest effort on both fronts. In the past, his parents never bothered him about his grades or anything, a fact he enjoyed and disliked almost equally, and which sometimes even avoided acknowledging even to himself. Richard assumed that partly was because his grades had always been good enough, although he never bothered to brainstorm the other reasons. That's how he had grown up and that's what he considered to be normal. He didn't like being asked stuff; it was better and easier that way.

He breathed in heavily, appreciating the fresh air of this pleasant morning as he descended a narrow streetway to come into view with a breathtaking avenue, characterized by a magnificent bridge for pedestrians that expanded over its busy roads. He scaled the stairs in a slow pace, much like a tourist, and stood at the center of the enormous bridge to take in the view. The sun soon started rising, blinding him and giving him an incentive to cross the bridge fully and reach other side. Once there, he began ascending yet another narrow streetway that led to a slightly more underpopulated and forested region of the city. After 10 minutes of hiking, he started hearing birds chirp and, not far too far ahead, people around his age with backpacks going up the hill in comparably in pace slower than his own.

Richard had been instructed in detail by uncle Leonard how to reach Jack London High School. The celebrated institution was somewhere within the enormous John Muir park, hidden by vast vegetation. In turn, the park itself was adjacent to a long, circular road that enveloped the park's periphery and that connected it to the prestigious high-class suburbs located nearby. Richard wasn't sure if he liked the idea of enrolling in an institute where over half of the students could afford everything he ever owned with their pocket money. His uncle however, had assured him that this wouldn't be the case; plenty of students from all social classes attended the school. As Richard processed all these thoughts, the scenery in front of him started changing, so that almost no buildings could be seen in the horizon. He had reached what should have been John Muir park, its entrance filled with parked cars and amounts of people Richard assumed were students. He crossed the road in a stroll, approaching two girls that appeared to be engaged in a casual conversation with each other. Although he stood before them with the intent to interrupt their conversation and receive directions, he was reluctant to do so; the exchange of sentences was very rapid and gave Richard no room to butt in unobstructed.

"I'm totally gonna try it when it begins raining again! said the girl on Richard's right.

"It overall sounds very lame, actually…" countered the girl on his left.

"Aren't you interested to find out who your soulmate is?" at this point Richard had started wondering what those two were even referring to.

"Not really. I can have almost anyone I want."

Richard figured that, if he didn't interrupt soon, he was probably going to be sick.

"Is this the John Muir park?" he finally asked as politely as possible.

Catching their attention, both girls turned to face the inquiring boy. As that happened, Richard took a better look of the girl on his left. She had long, black hair that flattered her energetic eyes, both features placed on a beautifully symmetrical face that looked like it almost belonged to a strong-willed, mature woman. Her body, dressed in purple was by all means eye-catching and well-proportioned, with Richard's gaze travelling along its curves in a discreet-as-possible fashion.

"Come again?"

She addressed Richard with palpable nerve, right eyebrow raised. It took Richard a couple of seconds to focus at the task at hand.

"I'm looking for the John Mu-", was all Richard could say before he was rudely interrupted:

"Yeah, this is it." She huffed in boredom, making Richard wish he was somewhere else at the moment. Still, he had come here for a very specific goal in mind and gathered the courage to put a stop at the awkward silence.

"S-so is the Jack London High School here or…?" said Richard.

She turned her head towards a large path deeper in the park, and gestured to it, her hair following through like velvet.

"Just follow the main path," she said with disinterest, "now if you'll excuse us…"

Richard watched solemnly as the girl grabbed her friend and walked a few meters away, her hair swaying intoxicatingly with every step. If most people here were anything like this girl, no matter how attractive, Richard was sure he'd have no reason to be particularly optimistic about getting along with people here. He took the paved path that led deeper within John Muir park, his feet kicking up dirt as he speculated all sorts of things about what sort of people he'd meet. Richard was enchanted as he got deeper into the park; the gigantic trees proliferated greatly, obscuring the majority of the morning sky and creating an atmosphere akin to a mystical fairy-tale. The ensemble was spoiled only by the occasional jogger. How these people were able to wake up when they had no obligation to and, to top it off, start exercising was well beyond him.

When Richard arrived, he could easily tell. The esteemed institute was right after a sharp corner, surprising him with its massive size and amount of people going through the gate. As per Richard's expectations, the arc above it read: Jack London High School. All of his doubts subsided immediately. The institute truly looked like a cradle of ideas, knowledge and all things academic. He walked towards the gate with a carefree stride and renewed confidence, a central noticeboard catching his attention. The boy found a dozen of students gazing at the noticeboard while exchanging quick comments. Richard joined them eagerly and after looked thoughtfully at the noticeboard for a couple of seconds. A large notice at the center of the board was by far the most remarkable. After Richard gave it a short skim, he came to the conclusion that it concerned the categorization of students by class for just this week. Other less prevalent notices included a school map as well as club and event posters from last year.

"Weird they're so disorganized this school year…" commented a boy.

"I heard they had more applicants this year than they anticipated. Maybe that's why…?" added a tall student with long hair in front of Richard to the speculation.

Richard took a better look at the notice. It explained that students would be categorized in alphabetical order. Thus, Richard came to the conclusion he'd have to go to class D2. It was then when the school speakers howled with activity, taking Richard completely by surprise.

"Wha…!?" was all Richard could voice in irritation and confusion.

"Attention," said the voice via the speaker, "all students are requested to move towards their designated classrooms. For surnames beginning with A to D, visit classrooms 1. For sur…"

Richard saw activity in the school's yard suddenly peak. Students started removing themselves from whatever hang-out spot in the yard they occupied and began approaching the building. The students in front of the noticeboard had already left; Richard gave the school map a quick glance before joining them.

…

Richard was sitting at a school desk far in the back, a rather restrained boy with a red cap hiding its forehead sitting to his right. Richard paid no mind to the other boy and appreciated the fact that the boy was a quite polite fellow even if practically mute. Richard had attempted to strike a conversation a couple of times in order to calm himself in the sensory blur of the classroom, but eventually settled on just observing his classmates. When that was no longer interesting, he obtained his notebook from his backpack and began doodling whenever his boredom would peak. Things finally became interesting again when a middle-aged man with dark, olive skin entered the classroom, wearing a white shirt and brown pants. The chatter immediately ceased as the students shifted their attention onto their senior. The man stood proudly in front of the blackboard, hands behind his back, and looked briefly at each student, all the while wearing an undecipherable smile.

"Greetings, I am Mr. Light…" he announced in a strong, theatrical voice, "To those that know me from last year, welcome back. To all those that transferred this year, a warm welcome to you as well. I hope that the time you spend here will be productive, but admittedly that will largely depend on how you, as students, manage your time and resource allocation…" Mr. Light paused momentarily to shoot the entirety of his audience a stern, analytical look before continuing, "you can rest assured that, if you give the curriculum the priority it deserves, I'll be your best friend and partner in regards to your quest for knowledge."

Richard, having heard his fair share of horrible metaphors for knowledge, appreciated the fact that Mr. Light made a reasonable, thrift use. As for him and Mr. Light becoming partners and best friends, Richard would have make up his mind on whether he'd embark the quest for knowledge first.

"I'd also like to inform you I will be to your physics professor." continued Mr. Light, "My major was in optics but I'm sure my knowledge will be adequate for your needs in collisions, among other sectors of physics. However, before we begin, I'd like to give you a world of advice…"

Richard saw Mr. Light's expression change, if only briefly. From a typically condescending pout, it turned into a thoughtful grimace made the professor momentarily look far older.

"Attending this institution of learning is an amazing opportunity in of itself. I have been here for a lot of years and let me tell you something youngsters…! I've seen countless students step into this school with a careless attitude almost to the point where it is insulting. Of course, you are teenagers and are carefree by nature; that I understand. However, this doesn't negate the fact that indulging in your carefree nature you are very much likely to mistreat this wonderful opportunity you have been given. In here, but also nearly anywhere else you have to set goals if you want to succeed. If you have come this far without doing so that is fine, but I hope that by the time you leave this place you have learned the importance of setting goals and how to do so. I do not deny the existence of talent, and I'm sure that some of you have a noteworthy degree of it in academics, but that alone will not be enough, my friends. Not now, not in your future workplace where your employer will expect a minimum of work from you and not ever. Ok, now on with the lesson…"

As Mr. Light started writing on the blackboard, Richard was glad he had brought a notebook.

…

Richard picked up his backpack and followed the river of people to the cafeteria.

Richard entered the cafeteria absent-mindedly, his thoughts revolving around Mr. Light's speech. As he walked towards the stacked trays, the blur of voices and kitchenware being used drilled into his mind forcefully, dislocating any concerns about goals and collisions. When Richard was in the appropriate mood, he enjoyed crowds; their numbers served as props, part of the atmosphere or the background. He picked up his tray and as he was served, his eyes would travel all from table to table, browsing aimlessly. He quickly realized he'd have to find somewhere to sit soon, so he awkwardly carried his packed tray towards the center of the cafeteria, searching for unoccupied seats. Thankfully, his eyes fell onto a familiar face after a short stroll. It was the boy that was sitting next to him in class.

The boy was dining with three other students; two girls and another boy. Richard observed that the boy was, much like in the classroom, contributing next to nothing to the ongoing conversation at that table; he was mostly eating his food and providing a answer when asked. Richard stood there for a couple of seconds, weighing his options, finally deciding to just ask if he could sit along and not be coward about it. He approached with short steps, hoping to discreetly get their attention and appear as normal as possible. One he got the attention of the goth girl at the table by being in close proximity, he asked:

"Hey guys, mind if I sit here?"

The girl blinked numerous times, her face lighting up suddenly after a couple of seconds.

"Uh, sure! Go ahead!"

She was soon joined by the girl next to her, who urged Richard to sit with them. He placed his tray in front of his future seat next to silent classmate with the red cap and, once seated, introduced himself.

"Hey guys, I'm Richard. W-what's up?"

"Hey there!" replied the goth girl eagerly, "I'm Argent!"

"Karen here!" said the girl next to Argent, "And those two in front of me are Roy and Tramaine." It appeared the boy with the red cap was Tramaine. Roy, on the other hand, was a confident looking blond guy.

In contrast to Tramaine who gave a minimal, acknowledging nod, Roy seemingly ignored Richard.

"Karen, I have a mouth of my own you know…" he protested, occupied with a large chunk of food between his teeth.

"Uhhh Roy… first off, that's disgusting! Secondly, you aren't exactly known for your manners…"

Roy gulped audibly, probably indicating that was finally done with that large bite of his, and assumed a clearly fake, carefree expression.

"As far as I'm concerned Karen, my manners are none of your business." He tried to conceal his smirk by taking a sip from his glass of water.

"Nah-uh!" she objected, "they are when we're at the same table!"

Roy took yet another bite , taking the time to savor the taste.

"Karen," he began, "no-one's forcing you to sit here with me. In fact, I think I just saw a seat be emptied in the back…"

"What!? Why should I leave? You leave!" Said Karen, putting her hands down with a loud thud. Argent discreetly urged Karen to keep it down, although Tramaine was simply unfazed, seeing as he almost done with his own meal.

"Well," began Roy all too smugly, "you're the one who seems to have a problem, so…"

"No Roy," Karen raised her voice dangerously, "the problem is yours and it's called being an assho-"

Argent immediately seized the moment and skillfully changed the topic, nudging Karen and getting an irritated look in the process.

"So Richard," she said, "I haven't seen you around here before. You're new here, right?"

Richard was pleasantly surprised when group's attention was shifted on him. He wasn't the sort of person to enjoy being the center of attention, and made consistent efforts to reveal only what was necessary about himself. Nevertheless, he couldn't help but appreciate being asked, even if it was a product of simple curiosity.

"Yeah, I-ah, I moved here pretty recently actually…"

"How recently?" asked Roy with a raised eyebrow.

"Less than a week ago…" he paused, and then, out of sudden inspiration, decided to get the ball rolling, "What about you guys? Did you attend here last year…?"

"I didn't." replied Tramaine, speaking for the first time ever since Richard joined the table. The tray in front of him was empty, with the dishes carefully stacked upon one other. He looked over to Richard with a faint smile. "I suppose not being the only new guy is good."

"Definetely!" beamed Richard, the rest of them looking surprised at Tramaine taking the initiative to speak on his own.

"Coming through!"

The students at the table turned towards the source of the high-pitched squeak and saw a lanky, brown-haired boy struggling to keep his tray firmly in his grasp. Despite his valiant efforts however, he fell slightly out of balance, dropping the tray onto the table. The dishes clashed loudly, some of their contents migrating to the rest of the table, as well as outside of it. Fortunately however, the tray stood in place, adjacent to Richard's, with him and Karen having some red sauce on their clothes.

"Uh, hi y'all!" the boy grinned sheepishly.

"I'm Garfield!" he continued, in an effort to dissolve the suffocating awkwardness.

Richard examined his stained shirt in absolute silence. It was going to be a long day, wasn't it?


	4. Wasted on the Young

Garfield had made a rather clumsy entrance into the dining assembly, but was there to stay. Of course, there were no hard feelings about him amongst the group, even if Karen switched seats with Argent, who was now sitting next to the energetic newcomer. When he was done apologizing (multiple times), Garfield focused his attention on who else was newcomer to the scene like him. He was delighted to find out that he, Richard and Tramaine were alike in that respect, even if the latter didn't speak much.

When prompted to elaborate about himself by Argent, Garfield eagerly explained he had moved into the city with his mother during the summer. Since they had to move in Jump City for various reasons, as Garfield said, his mother figured that sending him to Jack London High School would be a good opportunity to improve his less-than-stellar (hilariously delivered with air quotes by Garfield) grades. By a momentary grimace, it was clear as day that the thought did not entertain the brown-haired boy, but he nevertheless added that he enjoyed the school's vibe very much; perhaps his mother was right on this being a good opportunity. He then stopped to gloomily gaze into his tray, his light-hearted narration put into an abrupt stop. Silence took over the table for a couple of minutes, but the ice was broken when Roy made a very well thought-out question.

"Is Mr. Light your father, by any chance?"

Although the Joke went over poor Garfield's head, the rest of the gang burst into laughter. Their amusement was cut short when the school speakers barked that students were required to return to their classes swiftly. This made getting everyone's Visagenet account a priority for Garfield, who happily declared he'd message everyone at school day's end. As everyone at the table started rising and picking up whatever school gear they had brought with them, Richard took a moment to ponder who he would be hanging out with at the end of the school year.

The gangs formed during the first days were usually a result of a mutual need for safety and didn't last long, at least according to Richard's experience. He followed a silent Tramaine and a palpably bored Roy back to his class, all the while concerned with Garfield's overwillingness to keep in touch. It made sense that Garfield was in need of friends; he was, much like Richard, new to the city and the school. But why did Richard himself not have the same urge? Should he be doing the same? Was he wasting his days in the past when, by taking the initiative a couple of times, could he have made some valuable friends? And most importantly, would any of those newly-formed bonds last, or would they end up ignoring each other at the school corridors by mid-year?

By the time Richard was seated in class, he had almost completely forgotten about the fragility of school friendships, his attention focused on the classroom door. What sort of a person would their next professor be? Admittedly, Mr. Light wasn't that bad and had in fact offered some genuinely good advice. Roy himself had reassured Richard and Tramaine that most professors were quirky at their worst, provided you didn't get on their bad side. Even though Richard did not ask what it would take to do that, he mentally noted that he should avoid doing so. When a lanky, friendly-looking man at his 30's entered the classroom, it gave Richard the impression the man would teach something akin to philosophy. The man looked nowhere near as imposing as Mr. Light did, thus chatter did not stop like it did when Mr. Light had entered. The new professor did not seem to mind, however. He kept his friendly exterior and playfully struck the desk a couple of times before introducing himself.

"Welcome, welcome everyone. I'm Patrick Marsden and I'll be your history teacher… ok, so I'm sure most of you consider history to be a really boring subject, right? Well, if they've been teaching you dates and treaties, you're probably right. In my class however, you can forget about being lectured on such boring stuff."

"He's new." Roy whispered from the school desk behind Richard's. Richard took yet another look at the man. He did look somewhat nervous, but nowhere near a detrimental degree. He put on a wide, genuine smile and addressed the class with radiating energy.

"Instead, we'll be doing a historical overview of humanity the various cultures that represent it, or used to anyway. Interestingly, despite the vast array of knowledge about the past that is readily available via the internet or in books, the public has a lot of misconceptions about what life used to be like. Movies and videogames are by far the worst offenders… although to be fair, the first thing that got me interested in history in the first place was videogames. Ok, so has anyone here played any of the Primordial Writings games?"

Richard had never heard of such a series of games and yet, to his surprise, a couple of hands shot up in response to Mr. Marsden question.

"Ok," he said pointing towards a student in the back, "which one have you played?"

"Mysthills!" shouted the energetic voice. Mr. Marsden smirked, and looked diagonally upwards in thought, his hand caressing his bearded chin.

"Mysthills is not a bad game, but if you wanted to delve deeply into a fictional culture, you should be playing Canyonfell instead. Of course, it's an old game and definitely lacks in gameplay when compared to newer games like Mysthills. However, while playing it, I was really immersed into the province and culture. Now, for the rest of you, who may not have even heard what the Primordial Writings games are, they're a series of open-world role playing games that took place in pseudo-medieval worlds. I said took because Canyonfell was the first game in the series to feature a predominantly original, authentic culture. Besides fighting monsters and exploring dungeons, the game also allowed you to experience the culture firsthand via cities, books and the unfolding events… in short it was one of the factors that inspired me to study history… that's right people! A videogame turned me into a historian! Tell that to your mother the next time she yells at you to shut the computer down and go to sleep because it's 4 am!"

A few students laughed their hearts out. Richard didn't think it was particularly funny, but he had to hand it to the man; it was something most people his age could relate to, and it really helped improve the mood. Mr. Marsden's train of thought was put off course when Tramaine of all people raised his arm as if to ask a question. Encouraged by the professor himself, Tramaine asked in a polite and formal manner.

"Sir, what about the curriculum? When are we going to be able to pick our preferred lessons?"

Mr. Marsden scratched his head in a comically intense manner.

"Well guys I'm new here myself but… from what I know you'll be able to select your preferred classes by next week probably… either online or via the school's secretariat. The same applies to clubs I think, speaking of which…"

At that point, Mr. Marsden extended his hands in excitement, taking almost everyone by surprise.

"I have been thinking of starting a club of my own… for you guys of course! A fencing club, to be precise. We're going to focus medieval weapons mostly, but also dabble with weapons of antiquity from Europe and other nearby regions… problem is, it does take some students declaring interest for that to happen…"

At that point, Mr. Marsden scanned the classroom for signs of excitement, interest or anything at all. His futile search soon ended in vain.

"So… if anyone's interested, I'll make sure relevant information can be found in the various noticeboards of the school, including that giant thing outs-"

Mr Marsden was interrupted by the school speakers coming to life once again.

"Attention students. The school day has reached its end. We expect you to attend tomorrow, at the same time and place as today. You may leave in order."

Mr. Marsden looked somewhat disappointed at being unable to finish his sentence, but appeared to shake it off quickly.

"Well folks, looks like that's it! See you around!"

"Come on," muttered Roy under his breath, "I doubt that this Garfield fellow will let us skip our planned reunion…" And indeed, before they could even make it out of the classroom, all three of them received a message from Garfield.

When the gang met in the vicinity of a crowded school day, they brainstormed what they should do next. Argent and Karen vouched in unison for a hip cafeteria in the park a couple of steps away. Despite the fact that both Garfield and Roy had something else in mind, they both agreed that the proximity sealed the deal. As the gang walked on the active pathway, they evaluated the look and vibe of several coffee bars before settling on the coziest one (according to the girls, anyway). They picked a vacant table amongst several already occupied ones and after getting an extra couple of empty chairs, they sat down and placed their orders. Richard did not participate much in the conversation but was nonetheless enjoying himself, indulging in an intoxicating mixture of acoustical atmospheres; the idle chatter, the downtempo music coming from the bar's speakers and the tirelessly chirping birds. After what was about 20 minutes, Roy seemed to re-evaluate where the girls had led them.

"Well," he exhaled, "you COULD have brought us somewhere worse, so…"

"Unlike you," countered Karen, "we'd have to try!"

"I actually like it…" commented Garfield with a warm smile on his lips.

"Thank you! Finally, a boy with taste!" said Karen.

"… it really isn't bad for a place a girl picked. Not bad at all…" Garfield continued. In response, Karen snorted loudly and took a sip from her coffee, whereas Roy snickered in satisfaction.

"So Roy," Argent began, "tell us about the new professor."

"Nuts." Roy said plainly in apathy.

"I liked him." countered Tramaine, sounding somewhat insulted.

"You misunderstand me. He's nuts… but in a good way. He's passionate." elaborated Roy.

"How is he nuts? What does he even teach?" Argent persisted.

"He's a historian. He was raving about how a role-playing game turned him into a historian and now he wants to create some sort of a fencing club…" explained Roy.

"Definetely more interesting than the old faces…" commented Karen.

"Man, I'd kill to have a professor like that! I am an avid fan of role-playing games!" said Garfield in uncontrollable excitement, getting a couple of looks from nearby tables.

"I think the word you're looking for is nerd." Roy snickered.

Garfield was about to produce to a passionate rebuttal when his attention was caught by a police car driving slowly on the pathway, causing a minor commotion by its appearance. It drove further ahead from sight, but was soon joined by even more police cars, one of which stopped directly in front of the hangout. Unexpectedly and at a speed approaching that of light, Roy jumped up and awkwardly declared he had to leave. He grabbed his backpack and almost fell into a couple of chairs before Richard's eyes lost him in the midst of the students who had gathered around out of curiosity.

"What's up with him?" Garfield asked to no-one in particular.

No-one answered, but Karen's face spoke volumes of her ignorance and concern for her audacious classmate.

"I'm not a nerd…" Garfield mumbled in defeat as a police officer exited his police car parked on the pathway and approached them in sure, slow steps.

"Hello everyone. Sorry for the inconvenience but I'm gonna have to ask you to leave the park immediately." He said.

"Anything wrong?" asked Argent with a hint of fear in her voice.

"I can't say anything else at the moment. Thank you for your cooperation." said the officer sternly, leaving no room for comments or questions.

As he gestured for the customers to leave, he had to put up with a disheartened cafeteria staff, which put up a minor protest as their workplace was gradually getting empty. Argent, Karen, Tramaine and Garfield joined the rest of their peers in their way towards the exit of the park. The mass of teenagers descended the hill towards the large avenue generating endless chatter, but Richard and his new acquaintances were silent bar Garfield who was asking open-ended questions now and then, receiving no answer. They eventually reached the subway situated on the curb by the large avenue that Richard had crossed this morning. Karen, Argent and Tramaine had to ride the subway in order to go to their homes, leaving behind a waving Garfield and an idle, solemn Richard. As the latter moved to cross the bridge, Garfield initiated a casual conversation:

"So, you live near the avenue, huh?" he said absent-mindedly.

"Yeah…" responded Richard, "just across the bridge." He added a couple of seconds later.

"Pretty weird how Roy nearly killed himself in his hurry back there. Then again I'm sure the police officer made all of us pretty nervous…" said Garfield skeptically.

"I-well, I thought something may have come up. I-I wouldn't want to jump to conclusions right away." replied Richard, his right foot on the edge of the bridge.

"Eh, I guess…" Garfield just stood there in hesitation for a moment, "there's a nice hot-dog place not far from here. What do you say we grab something to eat?"

Richard weighted his options. On one hand, he wouldn't mind to spend some extra time out before heading back home, especially since their coffee-enjoying session had been interrupted so prematurely. On the other hand however, he was sure that it wouldn't take long for uncle Leonard to learn of the incident. His uncle would probably prefer that Richard was at home and rightfully so. Ultimately, Richard came to conclusion he'd have to decline the offer for today.

"Uhhh, I don't know… they're sort of waiting for me at home. Maybe tomorrow?"

"Ah, yeah! Sure! See you tomorrow!" said Garfield in apparent excitement.

"L-later!" Richard started waving his arm towards Garfield, who went past the subway station in parallel to the direction of the avenue.

And so Richard began on his journey home, his first stop being the other side of the pedestrian bridge, the cars buzzing with their engines beneath him. He observed the tall buildings inviting him to cross the bridge and used them as canvas to illustrate his thoughts upon. Why had Roy left like that? Richard didn't want to jump to conclusions but was sure it was something to do with the appearance of the police officer; in fact, he was positive that that's what everyone else in the gang thought. But what could have happened inside the park causing the police to appear? If Roy had left because of the police, was that an indication that he had something to do with whatever happened? And what would or did uncle Leonard think of all of this? Would he scold Richard for being where he wasn't supposed to? Or would he just tell him to be careful? His thoughts were interrupted when a catchy melody emerged from his pocket. He was receiving a call from none other than uncle Leonard himself. He braced himself for the worse, and picked it up producing an awkward "yes".

"Hey Richard," he heard his uncle's voice through the phone coming in a somewhat alarmed tone, "are you alright? They found a body near your school!"

So that's what it was. A body. Someone had died. Or worse, murdered…

"Y-yeah… the police came too!" Richard inwardly scolded himself for producing such a childish-sounding sentence.

"That's right. They decided to evacuate the park. It's gonna hit the news soon enough, too." uncle Leonard paused, his breath detectable through the phone, "Listen, I'm gonna get back home with Lisa at noon. Please wait for me Richard. There are a couple of things I must tell you…"

Richard's senses tingled alarmingly at the prospect of an imminent, non-deserved lecture. Seeing as he couldn't help it, Richard decided he's simply have to cope with it. He was being a guest, after all.

"Yeah, ok…!" Richard said robotically.

"Alright then, make yourself at home while you're waiting for us. By the way, there's food on the fridge, so make sure to help yourself if you're hungry. Bye!"

Putting his phone back in his pocket, Richard unlocked the door and entered the house, setting straight for the laptop on his desk upstairs.

…

It was approaching midnight. Uncle Leonard, who had gone back to work at noon and had returned a few hours ago, was watching the news along with his nephew, Lisa-Marie sent to bed hours before. The police officer and family man was sitting on the couch, producing occasional signs as he commented on the media report that concerned the incident. Although Richard did not remember the details, he did retain in memory the gist of it; a young man in his 20s had been found dead within John Muir Park, hanged by an antenna on the highest hill. The police had not so far declared whether it was a suicide or homicide just yet and the media did what it always did, wild speculation.

"Heh" chuckled uncle Leonard, "seeing the media blow things out of proportion like that would be fun if that particular case didn't mean more hours at work for me."

"Hey uncle…" came Richard's question, who was aimlessly watching the TV screen from the kitchen, "d-do you ever regret becoming a police officer?"

"Eh…" he paused in thought, engaging in a silent but intense recollection, "not really. I mean, I like the job. It's just that sometimes I can't fit stuff that I'd like to do in my schedule. Or Lisa's…" he stopped mid-sentence, his eyes lost in infinity.

"I shouldn't be bothering you with such boring old-man stuff." He said, snapping out of it, "Anyway, to sum it up…"

He turned to look at Richard with a lecturing look.

"Make sure you always are in company of others when you're going to school or anywhere else from school, and also make sure not to wander the park for any reason at all! If you encounter anyone who looks suspicious, keep your distance. If not possible, kick them in the groin and make a run for it. There will be police stationed within the park and around the school. Use them."

"Yeah…" was all Richard could say whilst he was processing the information.

"I also called your father while I was at work to let him know you're alright. He'd have called but he was extremely busy…"

Richard did not need to hear about this particular topic now. He stood up, placing the chair in its original position as a showcase of good manners and declared he'd go to bed.

"Yeah, you do that. Goodnight, Richard!" he heard his uncle say while he ascended the staircase. He crawled in his bed swiftly, falling asleep in a vortex of concern and mental activity.

The people he met today, their interlinking social interactions and bonds, the perplexing death of the unidentified young man, all painted his mind in various brush strokes as he drifted into the land of dreams. His consciousness travelled through an infinite azure passageway that was nor real, nor fake. His essence came to a halt when it collided with a vehicle soaring through misty skies, a canvas of dark blue clouds enveloped by cryptic winds. His consciousness was blurry to the point of incomprehension at first, but it gradually improved to reveal fragments of this newfound environment.

He first felt the seat. Very soft. Velvet? Possibly. He traced the seat and his body with his trembling hands, his vision blurry. He listened on, but the place was eerily silent. Untill…

"Ahem"

The voice sounded like it belonged to an old person. It was captivating and melodic, if a little alarming to his frightened ears. He felt his vision gradually clearing up.

"Welcome, to the Velvet Room…"

Richard perked up in surprise and curiosity. What he saw before him was one of the most visually peculiar people he had ever seen; not that he had seen more than the average person. The old man's face was marked by what was an abnormally enormous nose, bearing a striking grin. The man, sensing the teenager before him being at a complete loss, continued:

"My dear guest… it would appear you have a most unusual destiny…"

Richard paid little attention to the man's words. He was frantically looking around, trying to make head or tail of the situation. He was inside what appeared to be a private jet, decorated in never-ending shades of blue with a pleasantly intoxicating savoir-vivre atmosphere. The view from the window was a mystical slideshow of clouds moving through a stellar night sky. It was very beautiful, but it revealed nothing factual about what was going on.

"I'm dreaming, aren't I?" he concluded.

"Allow me to clarify." beetled the man, "The velvet room, in which you are within right now, is a realm that is shoehorned, so to speak, between dreams and reality…"

"Am I dead?" asked Richard in terror. He tried to get up but found himself inexplicably paralyzed.

"…now what I have to tell you is very important, my dear guest, so I'd be honored if you exhibited some patience…"

Richard's silence was forced, but nevertheless allowed the mysterious man to clarify further.

"First off, I am Igor and I am pleased to make your acquaintance. As I said, the Velvet Room is a realm found between dream and reality, mind and matter."

The man's melodic voice started to pacify Richard, who starting to forget his previous alertness to the bizarre nature of the situation.

"Generally, only those who have formed some sort of a contract can visit this room." Explained Igor.

"I don't think I ever did such a thing…" mused Richard.

"May I remind you my dear guest that actions speak louder than words? Even if you didn't, which you did, your heart still yearns to uncover its hidden potential."

Richard stood completely silent. He listened to the majestic winds that whipped the exterior of the mysterious aircraft with considerable force. His face darkened as he started to connect the pieces.

"I-Is all of this connected to that…nightmare I saw the first day I came here?" he muttered to himself.

"Precisely! Although I am afraid that I cannot disclose how they are connected, at least not at the moment. You see, Mr. Richard, you'll find that many events are closely interlocked together in your coming journey. I hope that you will show perseverance and a sharp mind in making the required connections."

"J-journey…?"

"In the spiritual sense, but yes. It will be a journey none the less. Your vigor in the pursuit of truth will be thoroughly tested, Mr. Richard. Though you have faced unfavorable circumstances in your upbringing, the coming journey will gave you the chance to re-discover yourself. But what you shall do with that chance is your own responsibility, my dear guest… until we meet again!"


	5. A Snack in the Fog

A devoid of people, fog-ridden John Muir Park made for a very depressing sight. Although there was a notable number of police officers on patrol, Richard couldn't quite decide if that made him feel safer or not; in a way, police presence emphasized the fact that the area was no longer considered as safe as it was yesterday. As the ambience of police officers talking to their telecommunication apparati and the eerie wind howling was not one Richard could appreciate, he accelerated his step in defiance of the mass of air colliding with his body.

And yet, despite the grim look of things, Richard was paradoxically enjoying himself. It was not any sort of massive change, but he felt… eager… he hadn't felt particularly eager to do anything for a long time, the bog of his unmotivated mind dragging down each and every day. But now Richard had some sort of a mission… he had to find out what was going on.

Who was Igor? Why had he visited Richard? What was Igor's correlation with his nightmare? Did his weird dreams have anything to do with the murder? Was it all in his mind? And most importantly… why him? Richard, as far as he could tell, was your average Joe when it came to teenagers. Why was he dragged into some sort of a mental game he couldn't hope to understand…? Richard kept walking on the leaf-covered pathway. As he heard the leaves crunching under the soles of his shoes, he came to the realization that maybe not all students from yesterday would attend today. In fact, it wouldn't be improbable if it was half or even less…

"Yo Rick!"

"Yikes!" Richard fumbled comically as a result of being utterly and completely taken by surprise. He sprang up like a spring and, slipping on a fallen leaf, came down like a sack of potatoes and landed on his posterior with a jolt of pain. It was none other than Garfield. He had presumably seen Richard from a distance rushed to greet him. Could it be that Richard didn't hear the boy, absorbed in his thoughts? As Garfield stared dumbfounded at Richard, the latter thought that Garfield being the killer perhaps wasn't all that outlandish after all…

"Hey man, are you alright?" he said energetically with concern, "I'm so sorry!"

"Y-yeah… it's alright… you just scared me there…" said Richard, masking his irritation as well as possible.

"I don't blame you…"said Garfield rubbing his chin, "Things have taken a turn for the creepier…" He helped Richard up and aided the boy clean his clothes.

"This is the second time I stain your clothes…" said Garfield with guilt.

"It's ok… walking together will be safer anyway…" conceded Richard. As they started walking towards Jack London High School, Garfield's energy returned in the form of more dialogue.

"They identified the victim by the way…" Garfield said all too casually looking in front of him. Richard lowered his head to look at the autumn leaves, keeping silent. "He had nothing to do with our school, or any school for that matter… it was a man in his 20's." continued Garfield.

Richard took his time to gaze at the sky for a bit before asking the only thing on his mind.

"Why him?"

Garfield shrugged in an expression of ignorance or indifference, re-adjusting his backpack on his shoulders.

"They speculate he had gotten involved with the wrong people or something." Garfield explained.

"Ah." was Richard's colorless response. His mind however was racing as he started connecting the pieces of whatever his uncle had decided to let on to him days ago.

"By the way" began Garfield in an attempt to change the subject, "have you heard of the midnight channel or something along those lines?"

"T-the what?" said Richard perplexed, decelerating his pace just slightly.

"Midnight Channel. I heard about it yesterday. I looked it up online after I got home. There's been talk of it, surprisingly." said Garfield with a little bit of pride for himself. He then inhaled and continued:

"When it's raining during midnight, you're supposed to watch your switched-off TV. It will show you your soulmate or something. How people believe these things…"

For Richard however, it was a completely different story. His recent experiences had definitely opened his mind in regards to the metaphysical.

"Uhm…" he vocalized in thought, "I've heard of it I think…just yesterday too…"

"I know right!? Plus it'll be raining tonight so we wouldn't be able to forget about this unscientific nonsense even if we wanted to… pppfffffttt…" said Garfield, coming off somewhat as a snob.

Richard merely nodded and said nothing, indulging himself in perpetual thought until the end of their walk. When the entrance of the institute was visible, Richard's fear seemed to come true; save a couple of students he had never seen before, there was no-one else in sight.

Richard knew that attendance would be lower but this was pushing it, he thought. Would Roy and the guys even be here today? They nervously entered the school in slow, faint steps as if they were hovering only be separated in the main hall.

"Alright, duty calls…"said Garfield in relief, as he was done walking through a desolate foggy park, "see you later man."

Richard didn't say anything. Instead, he wore a half-smile as waved to a diverging Garfield.

Richard was surprised to see Mr. Light already in the class, sitting on a chair by the professor's desk. He was supporting his grim looking face with the back of his hands, his olive-skinned elbows set firmly on the desk. Far back in the otherwise empty classroom, two students briefly paused their conversation to cast Richard a momentary glance and immediately resumed their indiscreet murmuring.

Richard, after reluctantly sitting further back, took his time to gaze at his two classmates. The male, who was a person of impressive bulk, reminded Richard fondly of being told about neardenthals in biology class years ago. Between his massive shoulders there existed a rather hairy and bestial face, the intimidating factor of which was enhanced by the widest grin, showing off the guy's abnormally large teeth.

In sharp contrast, the girl sitting next to him was rather pretty, although Richard found her choice of clothes to be rather questionable; it was a peculiar mix of hip-hop and goth style clothes, climaxing into a typical, obnoxious hip-hop cap that read "ABIDE" that hid her pink hair almost completely. Richard bitterly thought that, unlike himself, her mannerisms gave the impression she was a quite strong and bold person.

"Alright everyone," declared Mr. Light rising up from his seat, "it doesn't look like anyone else is planning to join us today, which is quite understandable given the circumstances. Let's begin."

Mr. Light's face looked unbelievably sour, conflicting greatly with his skin tone; for it was nothing close to yellow. When the other two students in class started snickering, Mr. Light's mood did not seem to improve much. Richard's mediocre impression of the two worsened further.

"Mr. Flinders, Mrs. Frazier, is there anything wrong?" inquired an irritated Mr. Light semi-rhetorically.

"Ohhoho! No Sir!" replied Flinders – the big guy – with an extremely deep voice that suited his appearance. Richard did not believe in giants but was by now exploring the possibility that individuals like Flinders that may have lived in the past, served as inspiration for tales describing such creatures.

"I'm glad to hear that…" replied Mr. Light unemotially. "Mrs. Frazier, would you be kind enough to join the lonely gentleman in the back?"

"No, no, that can't be right…" Richard thought.

"Of course…" responded Frazier jovially, causing Flinders to start laughing obnoxiously.

"Silence!" shouted Mr. Light sternly.

Although Flinders ceased laughing immediately, it would take far more than that to erase his grin.

"Oh great…" whispered Richard to himself as the pink haired approached his school desk. She shot Richard a defiant look as he moved to the side for her to sit. He looked towards the blackboard, his eyes fixated on the shape that Mr. Light was drawing; two colliding spheres. He heard the girl sit next to him, but made sure to avoid all eye contact as he extracted a pen and a notebook from his backpack.

"Ahem." Richard heard someone clear his throat, or rather, her throat next to him…

"I forgot to bring my stuff today. Could I borrow a pen and some paper please?" she said, wearing an ambiguous smile.

Richard turned to his left in order to face her, employing his best poker face. Surely he was being messed with, he thought. Not only she did not look like the person to have any sincere interest in schoolwork, he could as well take a photo of Richard's notebook with her smartphone after the lesson was over. Nevertheless…

"Um, sure… just give me a minute…" said a cautious Richard, searching for another pen in his backpack.

"Sure, take your time." She said all too nonchalantly.

"Here you go…" he said nervously, handing her a pen and a couple of pages ripped from his own notebook.

"Thanks. I'm Jillianne by the way." She took the chance to introduce herself in a soft whisper, looking all the same straight at Mr. Light who was now explaining the principle of conservation of momentum, and how it can applied.

"I-I'm R-Richard…" he responded in turn, making sure not to give himself away to Mr. Light.

"You're new here, aren't you?" she said, scribing down the blackboard's content onto her piece of paper.

Richard scratched the back of his head in bewilderment, leaning on the back of his seat.

"Yeah." He finally said.

"You'll get to like it here, provided you get to hang out with the right people…" said Jillianne, looking at Richard with an ambiguous smile on her lips.

Richard stared at the floor before the blackboard, processing her statement vigorously. What the hell did she mean by that? Richard was sure that it wasn't just a pointless statement, unless she wanted to mess with him even more. He let the next minutes pass in silence before coming up with a satisfactory response.

"A-and you're one of those… r-right?" he said warily.

"Bingo!" she emphasized.

Richard did not know where the conversation would be headed next, but he felt he was going to be pressured into making a decision he would regret later; an idea he wasn't too fond of. Thus, he decided to say nothing more, contempt in letting the conversation stay as is. Oddly enough, Jillianne did not try to expand the conversation. Thankfully for Richard, who chose to remain silent until the bell rang.

"Alright everyone, make sure to thoroughly study at home what we covered today. Recall what I said about setting goals…" Said Mr. Light in a weary tone, casually flinging the piece of chalk in his hand onto the edge of the blackboard.

Richard did not wait much longer. He bid Mr. Light goodbye (who was delighted to respond in the same manner) and raced towards the cafeteria, spotting several of the extravagant fencing club posters of Mr. Marsden along the way.

Finding Garfield in an almost empty cafeteria was, much Richard expected, not very difficult. Having his tray filled by the staff, he proceeded to join Garfield's table, who was busy taking to a rather skinny blond girl. As he approached, he was inevitable noticed; putting the conversation between the two at hold.

"Hey Rick! Guess what! She's new as well!" shouted Garfield in uncontrollable excitement, making the girl visibly feel uncomfortable and Richard do his best not to cringe.

"H-hey there. I'm Richard…"he introduced himself somewhat reluctantly, well aware of the awkwardness of the situation. Richard made a mental note that despite the fact that Garfield was an entertaining person to be around, he lacked subtlety to the point where it'd be better if he just wore a neon sign to school.

"I'm Tara." She said while moving strands of her straight blond hair behind her right ear, somewhat struggling with the social situation at hand. Richard thought that she definitely reminded him of himself, both in the past and the present.

"By the way Tara," beetled Garfield while moving slightly closer to the girl, "Richard is new like you and me!"

"Um, that's good to hear," she said running her hand through her hair as she re-adjusted the distance between herself and Garfield, "I didn't know anyone yesterday and it… kinda sucked…!"

"T-totally!" said Richard, nodding for emphasis.

…

The rest of the school day was rather dull overall, and passed seemingly swiftly. Richard, coming in visual contact with the police officers in the vicinity was reminded that hadn't he had a normal school day in Jack London high school yet. He took the pathway that led out of the park next to a disheartened Garfield; Tara had some sort of a business to take care of and would be unable the two boys in their planned outing.

Richard, bothered by what had occurred in Mr. Light's class early in the morning, confided his concerns about that Jillianne person to Garfield who dismissed spectacularly quickly. Much to Richard's disappointment, Garfield surmised that she had the "hots" for him "or something". With the two of them keeping mostly silent, they set out to the hot dog place Richard had heard about yesterday.

Turns out it, was a rather cozy and somewhat crammed hangout spot situated on a busy street parallel to the avenue, with far less fog than in the park. It featured about 4 small tables in the foreground, with a long counter on the left equipped with about 4 stools. Further in the back, Richard could see a large green counter for the employees, decorated with all sorts of sandwiches and food within glass cases and equipped with all sorts of machinery for cooking, heating food and making coffee. Just next to that counter a refreshment fridge and an ice-cream machine sat, filled with information about prices and flavors.

The place was not devoid of color, either. It was a vibrant combo of white and green that was, at least in Richard's opinion, a very good choice. Looking up, Richard found himself surprised by the fact that the place was a little bit too open; only the counter for the employees was under a roof, on which there was a large inscription reading: "Senor Hot Dog".

"I've seen far better names," beetled Garfield catching wind of Richard's glance, "but Victor will hear none of it. Meh…"

Richard, appreciative of the environment, smiled instinctively as Garfield walked over to the green counter in the back, presumably to order something. However, he did not expect the large, dark-skinned employee wearing a green cap to greet Garfield as a friend.

"Yo! Stickman! Where you at bro?" the person opened both arms in waving intention, shouting with his warm, friendly voice. Richard couldn't help but notice this person looked quite strong, although his demeanor and manners were night and day in comparison to Flinders.

Garfield dropped his shoulders as if declaring defeat. "Dude! I've told you not to call me that!" he said in mock-protest.

Victor took a moment to stand in place, taking his green cap off to swipe sweat of his forehead with his forehand. He looked at Garfield with a friendly, yet defiant look, a sly smile creeping under his large lips.

"I know." He said plainly, after putting the green cap on.

"Yeah, real funny Vic…" Garfield said slouched, rubbing the back of his neck. He moved towards the green counter of Senor Hot Dog. Richard, in contrast stayed rooted in his original position. He didn't feel comfortable being in the midst of two friends, of whom he knew neither that well. It was only when Garfield gestured at him to approach that Richard decided to do away with such shyness for now.

"This is Richard by the way," Garfield gestured towards Richard, who was now standing next to him near the counter, "I met him at school!"

The man turned to look at Richard with a faint smile imprinted on his face, while re-adjusting his cap with his left hand and extending his right arm for a handshake.

This took Richard for surprise, who took a couple of seconds to respond to the gesture, resulting in a firm handshake.

"Hey, I'm Victor Stone. Nice to meet you man." His voice was lively and his grip strong. Richard thought that his initial observations were correct; Victor did appear to have a quite muscular build.

"I'm R-Richard…" he said completely dispassionately, disappointing himself. "Richard Grayson," he repeated clearly and boldy, "I'm new here. Just moved here at the start of this month."

"Can't say the same, I've been here almost all my life." said Victor, casting a glance towards the entrance for potential customers.

"Yeah," beetled Garfield semiseriously, "Vic is an authentic, 100% Jump City citizen to the bone."

"Make that 200%!" said Victor laughing heartily. "In fact, that's how I met Mr. Stickman over here," he added, turning to face Richard who was trying to decipher what Victor meant exactly, "He'd come here for a snack almost every day after his pedaling session during the summer."

"Richard dwelled on the "stickman" moniker for a bit. Considering Garfield's lanky built, it was quite fitting. In fact, if Garfield wasn't so energetic and dynamic, one could think the boy was malnourished. Not only this was not the case, but Richard realized that Garfield probably ate more than he did, even if that had no apparent effect on his silhouette.

"Pedaling? Dude, you make it sound so… lame…! I mean it may not have an engine like yours but it still has a soul…" it wasn't difficult for Richard to come to the conclusion that the pouting and discontented Garfield was referring to his bike.

"Chill man! Of course it does!" said Victor in a comforting tone. "…it's just that it's a…childish soul!" Victor took Garfield and Richard by surprise, snickering loudly in an artificially obnoxious manner.

Richard couldn't help it. He grasped his sides in determination, but his endeavor was ultimately utterly futile. He burst in uncontrollable laughter that could be heard all across the other side of the street.

"Aw man! Not you too!" a sulking Garfield placed his palm-covered face on the counter in total defeat.

…

Richard was home by late evening, somewhat tired nonetheless clearly happy in a long time, and just in time to hang out a bit with his uncle and cousin. The conversation with Garfield and Victor became, in Richard's opinion far more productive after they we done laughing at Garfield's expense; Victor revealed that the city had gangs of rebels with specific hang out spots for a while now, restraining themselves to looking cool.

It was only recently that these guys had the police focused on them. As for Frazier and Flinders, Victor explained that they weren't particularly dangerous, but still worth to keep an eye out for.

By 11:00 pm Lisa was asleep but Richard, going against uncle Leonard's advice, planned to stay awake a while longer. Unlike most such instances in the past, it wasn't because he intended waste time by browsing the internet aimlessly. This time around, he would be unable to sleep even if his life depended on it; for the water droplets that fiercely threw themselves onto the house roof drove him mad.

Like a stubborn fly, the idea of testing the validity of the Midnight Channel simply wouldn't go away. No matter how much Richard tried to shelve the ridiculous idea within the bowels the bowels of his mind, it kept re-emerging like a rubber ducky in water. Eventually Richard came to the conclusion he'd simply have to do this and be done with it, even if it reminded him of that horrifying nightmare.

By 11:50 pm Richard had switched the laptop sitting on his desk off and had sat on his bed, eyeing the TV on the bedside table with mustered determination. He glanced between his phone and the inelegant black screen back and forth, occasionally feeling as if the old appliance was mocking him.

11:55 pm

"Finally this thing will make itself useful." He thought.

11:56 pm

A violent thunderstorm broke the monotonous sound of rain hitting the house roof.

11:57 pm

The rain starts to thicken.

11:58 pm

What if the time displayed by his phone is wrong? Perhaps the actual time is 1 minute more or less…

11:59 pm

One more minute…

12:00 am

…

12:01 am

"Hm…?"

At first it was almost undetectable, but Richard did start to see something… it was more akin to a series of vertical lines that raced horizontally on the TV screen, until they were replaced by your typical TV static. The boy was watching mesmerized and horrified almost at equal intensity, unconsciously drawing nearer, when the meaningless display abruptly turned into a series of badly rendered images. Those, in turn, evolved into some sort of seamlessly playing movie that could be barely seen through the extremely bad quality. Though Richard wasn't sure, he getting the impression it was showing a man walk through some sort of a corridor.

Upon the realization that the sight looked awfully familiar, the boy tried to quickly distance itself from the TV screen, only to be drawn – and drowned – into a sea of static electricity compromised of scarce but ever so brightly shining stars…


	6. Entities of Power

The water droplets dripped onto the rigid, stony surface for a long amount of time, which Richard spent motionless in a strong limbo. When he was finally conscious again the sound of the dripping prompted him to open his eyes.

And yet, he was determined not to; he was paralyzed in intense fear and was content with the little ignorance he had left. The coldness of the stony floor was starting to get to him, too. It felt like it was impaling his shoulder blades. Eventually, a chilling burst of wind coerced him to open his eyes and sit on his bottom, his torso off the ground.

At first, the overbearing darkness that engulfed the room was too much for Richard to see anything. Having better to do than stare into the darkness, his eyes rapidly adjusted to the blackness. The room looked like some sort of a dungeon cell. Richard was horrified by the realization; the door of metal bars was separating him from the eerie, barely illuminated corridor with the cell on the other side of the wall consumed in total darkness.

THUD

THUD

Richard grasped the sides of his head in panic; he knew nothing about the source of the echoing footsteps, but it was probably getting closer and closer. He frantically crawled around his dungeon cell sensing nearby objects with his trembling hands, searching for any sort of a potential hiding place. When his fingers came in touch with some sort of a primitive bed, he mind froze for a second before the ever increasing volume of the echoing footsteps urged him to crawl under the cell bed.

He waited in motionless, breathless almost, as an otherworldly and raspy breathing joined the audible echoing steps that were now originating very close to Richard. The hair on his forearms rose as the steps abruptly stopped, allowing Richard to further examine the irregularity of the hoarse, disturbing breathing; it kind of sounded like the originator was deeply sick and made Richard wish he, she or it would leave as soon as possible. To his relief the entity didn't stay dormant for too long; it begun generating step sounds that were ever increasingly lesser in volume, signifying that it was – thankfully – going away.

Even when nothing could be heard after the sound of the steps had diminished completely it took Richard a long amount of time to liberate himself from his limbo. Scouting in the darkness for any acoustical indication of sound, stretched his perception of time like it was a piece of rubber. When he finally decided to do something about his situation he timidly crawled out from under the bed, still having no idea of what he should do next.

He stayed on his knees for a long time his eyes long adjusted to the darkness. He stared at his cell door equally long and after no horrifying sound emerged from the depths of the building, he timidly approached the door in order to inspect it. He expected it to be locked. After all, what good is a cell door that is unlocked? So, when the door moved slowly and audibly under his influence, he was very surprised.

He stopped in his tracks yet again before a slightly open cell door, terrified of the prospect of being spotted by whomever. After further inactivity however Richard decided to take the risk and go through with his plan. He opened it a bit more; just as much as it was needed for him to go through and found himself in a depressing and long hallway that extended in both directions, cell rooms left and right. He grasped his clothes in awkwardness, baffled as to what to do next.

"I'm still in my pajamas… aren't I?" he realized.

He walked the corridor warily hoping he wouldn't bump into anything similar to whatever the originator of the hoarse breathing was. Richard overall felt as if he was picked up and tossed into that nightmare he had days ago once again. The locale was different but the atmosphere and vibe of despair we all too similar.

If this was some sort of dream as he hoped it was, he'd eventually wake up. Perhaps all he'd have to do was to be patient. But it was too real. A little bit too real for him to believe that he would simply wake up within the next five minutes. The nightmare was too real too, as well as that dream in which the man with the long nose had talked to him.

"Am I getting crazy?" Richard came to a halt as he steadied himself with his palm on the dungeon wall. "I'm just an ordinary person…" he repeated inwardly over and over. The corridor was diverging now, allowing for two different routes; one straight ahead and one to the left. But how could he choose which way to go? There was no way that all of this was happening.

And yet it was as far as he could tell, real. Wandering inside here, going to school, eating and talking to uncle Leonard all were equally real experiences. Was it all real or was it all… not real?

His thoughts were interrupted when he spotted something moving in the darkness ahead. It got closer and closer, but Richard was completely frozen in his tracks, his eyes widened in their effort to spot the figure in the darkness.

It was slightly larger than him, like an adult. However it was quite slouched. It moved awkwardly with its arms wildly swinging with each movement of its body. It was moving wholly unnaturally, like badly animated clay animation that Richard remembered watching over the internet when he was younger.

It stepped into the light revealing its black body that was covered in terrifying, inhuman unblinking eyeballs. Its head was like more like a worm's and less like a man's, except for the fact that it had two wide open eyes and a grinning mouth. It was wearing rugs that covered some of its skinny, clay-like body.

Richard felt disgusted by the sight, his body finally unfreezing itself and bending to his will.

He ran as fast as he could through the route on his left, indifferent to the possibility of attracting more unwanted attention.

He only stopped when his face collided with a metallic surface, causing him to slip and fall down. As he grasped his nose in his attempt to relieve himself of the pain he looked up to see what he had collided onto.

He first saw something akin to a shield. A knight's shield worn out from the passage of time. It was held in front of a battle ready warrior who was looking at Richard in surprise.

He was covered from neck to hips with a buff white jacket, his legs and arms protected by metal plates and gauntlets. His head was protected by a hat-like helmet. But the most notable aspect of this warrior was the beak and feathers on his face.

As the clay-like monster from before stopped 4 meters away behind Richard, joined by two others of its kind, the crow-headed knight simply shoved Richard aside with his shield and proceeded to walk towards his adversaries.

He held his sword tightly, the rest of his body relaxed and yet on alert. He lifted and steadied his shield on his hip as the clay-people approached one by one, their sickening grins never leaving their mouths.

"Have at me scoundrels!" he declared defiantly with his weird voice tone; an unprecedented mix of talking and cawing.

The first one, encouraged by its opponent's challenge closed the distance. Its weapon, a rusty short sword, was far smaller than the Crow-Knight's longer sword, who used his greater range to his advantage casually slicing through its neck. The stumbling clay-man was further distanced by a well performed straight kick that landed on its abdomen, knocking it to the ground.

The second clay-man approached aiming clumsily for the Crow-Knight's head, but the attack was effortlessly nullified when he raised his shield. At the same time, he slashed at its ribs taking it down instantly.

The third one stepped forward more cautiously its short sword raised warily, all of its eyeballs tracking the Crow-Knight carefully. It was nonetheless taken by surprise by a well-aimed attack towards its right knee that caused it to fall over. It was finished off by a thrust to its torso.

"Well, that takes care of that…" he "cawed" smugly.

Richard was sitting by the dark, humid wall in total shock, having just the witnessed the death of these 3 beings. He wasn't sure about the intentions of the Crow-Knight either; he could be planning to murder him for all he knew. And yet his body betrayed him; he couldn't move no matter how hard he tried.

These creatures were wearing torn rugs – next to nothing – and yet they had attacked the Crow-Knight at the cost of their lives. Why? They behaved like mindless sacks of clay but Richard couldn't shake the feeling these creatures had some of a purpose being here. Something undoubtedly linked them to this place.

"Well then" declared the Crow-Knight, his cawing echoing within the hallway, "Where were we?"

He turned to Richard, giving the young boy a momentary glimpse into his psyche. Richard reacted as if he was electroshocked. He felt the imminent danger of death. He fumbled around the humid wall until he was stopped by the grip of the Crow-Knight.

"You evaded me days ago, but your luck runs out today!"

He raised Richard to his feet by the grip on the boy's neck of shirt.

"W-what do you mean?" was all Richard could say, his forehead soaked in sweat.

"You brought a person here… why? What did you to him?" said the Crow-Knight, his patience visibly dwindling.

"I've never been here before!" shouted Richard, making sure to tell the truth before his fear could paralyze his vocal chords.

"Silence fool!" he said pulling and pushing Richard back to the wall violently, "I'd have no qualms leaving you to their mercy! Speak up while you still can!"

"I-ah," Richard panted, trying to focus, "I have no idea how I even came here… it was an accident! I don't know who you're after but this is the first time I've been here!"

The Crow-Knight stared at Richard's eyes, seemingly glimpsing into the boy's psyche. For a while only the rhythmic eerie dripping could be heard, until the Crow-Knight finally settled his inward debate.

"Fine," he signed, "I can verify your words… but you must follow me. You can forget getting out of here alive if you try anything funny…" he finished with a stern look on his face.

Richard felt his body relaxed and the captured air finally escaped his lungs. Although his ordeal wasn't over yet, it looked like he did have a chance on staying alive.

"Get over here!" ordered the Crow-Knight, "in the front!"

…

The unfitting pair walked for what must have been half an hour when they finally reached the courtyard of the desolate fort, Richard in the front and the Crow Knight just behind him, sword unsheathed.

The sky was heavily clouded mostly hiding the lethargic sun, but it still was way brighter out here than within the fort. It was pretty humid though – even out here. The intense humidity attacked Richard's nose causing his senses to be briefly heightened. He stopped, risking injury from the tip of the Crow-Knight's sword.

His eyes travelled all along the melancholic scenery enjoying what was left of the architecture; it wasn't much but it had a quite distinct style. It mostly compromised of destroyed columns and walls with an arc here and there, all of it inhabited by a plethora of dully green moss from beginning to end. It gave Richard an impression that he was staring straight into the past. Up ahead in the distance there was a large closed door, oddly inviting with its beautiful embellishments on its surface, despite its obvious wear.

He'd seen a lot of photos and visited some museums too with his father when he was younger, but he had never felt so mesmerized by anything archeological before, and couldn't put his finger on why either. He had never appreciated anything of the sort before and, until now, he didn't think there was much to appreciate anyway.

"What's the matter?" cawed the Crow-Knight behind him.

"Nothing… I guess I like what I'm seeing, honestly." said Richard with newfound tranquility.

The Crow-Knight did not speak. Instead he "hmphed" deeply indicating that he was in deep thought. Perhaps he had never stopped to look at some old stones, thought Richard. Then again, neither had he in the past.

"Alright then, let's move out…" declared the Crow-Knight reluctantly, still in deep thought.

"We're going through that gate, right?" asked Richard, orienting his head to the side.

"Yes," replied the Crow-Knight sternly, "I suggest that you get it open right away."

Richard said nothing; he approached the old door with his eyes fixated on its worn wooden surface. He touched the big iron handle that was covered in rust and slowly pulled it open. It revealed a rather spacy room full of ceramic pots; but the room was otherwise empty. Like before reaching the courtyard, it was quite dark, but at least the damaged roof was allowing for some of the sun's rays to pass through.

Richard hesitated; The Crow-Knight motioned for him to get in.

The room smelled intensively of mucus and closed, tight spaces; as any room would smell if you hadn't opened the windows for a long time. Richard thought that it didn't make much sense; the roof was damaged and thus there should be air circulating. And yet not only did the room smell unpleasantly, it felt unpleasantly too. Richard didn't want to be there and felt that the room itself didn't want him there either.

The dim lighting allowed Richard to spot a door on the wall to the left, towards the end of the room. The entrance was almost completely covered by the assortment of ceramic pots everywhere.

"Is this a warehouse? Or –"

"Keep quiet!" the Crow-Knight cut him off.

After standing in front of the entrance for whole minutes the Crow-Knight finally decided for the both of them to move to the center of the room. He poked Richard, urging him to move forward. The pair slowly walked forward making as little noise as possible. They halted yet again when they reached the center, allowing Richard to spot a couple of broken pots here and there.

CRASH!

It sounded like a wall being collapsed, and seconds later it was accompanied by the striking sounds of ceramics breaking. Richard was caught in complete shock, instinctively turning his head to the right, frozen in place.

"Curses!"

Before his brain and eyes could register anything he felt a strong force push him meters forward, causing him to land on the stone floor face down.

He heard loud footsteps, growling and more hoarse breathing. In panic, he inelegantly crept forward not daring to look back as gigantic object was being rammed on the ground.

"Over here you dalcop!" the Crow-Knight cawed.

The taunt was immediately followed by the striking sound of ceramic and stone breaking, and the roar of an irritated beast.

Richard, after having crept an additional distance from his original position, rolled on his back to have a look on the nightmare that was taking place behind him.

The beast was vaguely humanoid and very tall; at first it looked like a shiny, indistinguishable mass of fat with arms and legs. As it moved about in an effort to hit the Crow-Knight with a massive club it revealed more of its features to Richard; its body was covered in several thin protrusions that generated light.

Suddenly and without warning, the monster oriented its head towards the boy, causing it to move about aimlessly in a state of acute terror. The head of a creature resembled a monstrous angler fish that one could find in the depths of the ocean, with distorted facial features that resembled a tragedy mask. It roared menacingly and walked towards a terrified Richard brandishing its enormous club.

Thankfully it was distracted when a dirtied and messy Crow-Knight cut deeply into its left leg (from Richard's perspective) with his longsword. "Go upstairs, fool!" he cawed as he swiftly stepped backwards dodging the monster's grip. But his luck ran out as a wild swing of the club launched him onto the midst of numerous ceramic pots by the wall.

Smoke and dust was lifted off the ground but the brave knight remained prone on the floor, allowing the monster to freely attend to the defenseless boy who awkwardly crept backwards in despair. As the monster approached, Richard started noticing a big mass attached to its back, serving as weight that that the monster appeared to constantly carry around. It kept snarling in succession as it get closer and closer, but something progressively muffled the threatening roar until it was but a whisper in the dimly lit room.

His vision was blurred. He tried standing up as well as he could, while he felt the vibrations caused by the monster's steps.

THOU ART I

Richard, practically blind, stumbled backwards. Though he could not see the threat in front of him, he could feel its malevolent intent as well as the club's windup.

I ART THEE

Richard stood in shock as felt a powerful torrent of warm wind emanate from his solar plexus. A word appeared in his mind, marking itself into his consciousness like hot iron.

"PERSONA!"

Two ashen hands gripped the club.

The monster snarled in a mix of irritation and fear.

No matter how hard it tried, it could not regain control of the club.

"You very well know that this is useless," said an otherworldly deep voice that resembled many people talking at the same time, "it would be best if you forfeited."

The monster stayed quiet for several seconds as if it was contemplating. Meanwhile Richard's senses were returning to normal, allowing him to perceive his protector in detail.

The armored giant that was contending for the club's possession was covered in ashen silk, twirling around him the warmest summer breeze. The ornate, bearded helmet obscured most of the figure's charcoal face save for two glaring crimson eyes. The ornate helmet had a distinct ancient greek flavor that clashed with the rest of the equipment, which bore a European style unknown to Richard. A large oval shield was strapped to the back of the gigantic warrior. The red and black colors of the warrior's attire made for a beautiful if not frightening sight.

The monster regained its confidence within the interval of silence. It tried to regain control of its weapon once again, only have its face head-butted.

It let go of its weapon immediately, backing away as it covered its face with its monstrous webbed hands in pain.

"I shall not be made a fool of." declared the warrior with his otherworldly voice, his intention to kill all too clear. He dropped the club and swiftly delivered a blinding left jab to the monster's face, followed by an unexpected straight kick. The monster cried in pain, oblivious to the incoming right jab.

It resulted into a temporary knock out that caused the monster to fall on the floor with an intense vibration that travelled all around the building, causing the roof to tremble and a couple of debris to drop here and there.

The helmeted warrior unsheathed a peculiar weapon that Richard had never seen before. It resembled a katana, except for the fact that the curvature was oriented downwards.

"May you receive a better fate at your next life." He said as he circled his dizzy and prone opponent.

He grasped the long handle of his sword with both hands and delivered a deep diagonal cut into the monster's flesh.

It let a deafening scream escape its mouth, but it was in vain; it bled to death quickly drenching the floor tiles with its blood.

That monstrosity had just tried to kill him; yet Richard found himself averting his line of sight from the disgusting, fatty body that had bled to death; he felt extremely dirtied witnessing the event, almost as if it was polluting his very being.

Further inspection of the fatty corpse reminded Richard of the undefined mass of flesh attached to its back. It heavily resembled another separate body had been sewed to its back.

"Guilt." said the ashen warrior plainly, turning to Richard.

The giant's dark red eyes kept looking at Richard with a questioning look that had the boy at a loss. It was as the giant was expecting something out of him but Richard wasn't in the mood to ponder; he was merely glad to be alive.

"I suppose you are unaware of who I am, is that right?" asked the armored giant.

Richard, lacking the willpower and sanity to do anything else simply nodded.

"I am Derzelas. I am the patron of physical and mental vitality, lord of the underworld, master of reincarnation, provider of abundance, wielder of lightning and grantor of philosophy and knowledge!" he roared, his voice echoing all over the dimly lit room.

"Most importantly, I am you and you are me." He calmly added when the echo had subsided, disappearing into a silky veil of ash.

Richard dumbfounded as he was simply sat down, his mind completely devoid of any sort of activity, thought or process. His mind remained dormant and inactive for quite a while, until a distraction revealed itself.

"You've rescued both of us! Well done sire!"

"Huh?"

The Crow-Knight's weapon was sheathed, his shield was strapped to his back and he was visibly limping; he did not emerge unscathed from the impact with the gigantic club. Despite his impaired walking and blood-stained and dirtied armor he had a remarkable and unexplained air of confidence and eagerness about him, to the point where he was almost a different person. Before Richard could fully come to his senses, he was grabbed and forced to get up by the beaked warrior.

"T-thanks… mister…eh…"

"Call me Corbelus Schwarz young sire! At any rate we must go upstairs before more of them arrive!" he said with an unprecedented, friendly and helpful attitude that had Richard pondering during their ascendance. The knight was close to killing him and constantly had him at his sword's reach at all times. So what was responsible for this sudden change in his demeanor?

The pair came to a halt when they arrived before an arced door covered in intense and blinding fog.

"I have the suspicion that going through this gate will enable you to return to whence you came from, young sire!" he explained eagerly.

"Uh, my name is Ric-…"

He was pushed into the deep fog before he could properly introduce himself.

…

He was ejected through the old VCR straight onto the bed's footboard, loudly hitting it with notable force.

"Ouch…!" he said, rubbing his head and making sure to get his legs out of the VCR without throwing it off the bedside table.

He was stressed, exhausted and wanted nothing else but to fall into a deep slumber. Seeing as his pajamas were very dirty though, that would have to wait.

He approached his haversack in order to get out a spare set of pajamas, and sneaked like a thief into the bathroom to change and throw the stained pair into the laundry basket. He thought he was very lucky that the bathroom was upstairs, like the rooms.

Returning to his room was a task that happened with utmost caution. Once inside he switched the light on, closed the door, switched the light off and dived into his bed as quietly as possible

He changed orientation numerous times before managing to fall asleep, his consciousness swimming in a sea of images; dungeons, swords, shields, castles and beautiful columns from a bygone era.


	7. Daveed's Dilemma

BUZZ

BUZZ

The boy's arm was hastily extended from under the bed sheets blindly seeking the alarm clock. After several seconds of failure Richard would have no more of it; he irritably removed the sheets from on top of him and targeted the infernal machine with unprecedented hatred. The alarm clock was finally silenced as he lay on the bed once again.

Unfortunately, he didn't feel particularly well rested in comparison to last night. His mind felt numb and tired, protesting even against the thought of leaving his bed, let alone going to school. And yet he kind of wanted to go anyway. Besides, it was Friday, he realized as he got off the bed.

He got dressed and quickly descended the stair case to find uncle Leonard and Lisa-Marie seated by the kitchen table, enjoying their breakfast and watching TV.

"Richard! Good morning!" said uncle Leonard moving his gaze away from the TV screen. "Tea or cereal?" he said as he got up, reaching for the kitchen cabinets.

"Umm, tea would be nice!" Richard answered eagerly as he sat across uncle Leonard's former seat, next to Lisa.

"Dad, can we watch cartoons now?" Lisa asked as broke her gaze with the TV screen, orienting her head towards her father.

"Not right now Lisa. I want to watch the morning news." said uncle Leonard as he switched the kettle on.

Richard observed as she pouted for a couple of seconds, but then proceeded to eat the rest of her cereal with a neutral look on her face.

"Richard, please don't tell me you'd rather watch cartoons too." chuckled uncle Leonard as he poured hot water in the cup.

"N-not really… I mean, I watch mine over the internet, so…" conceded Richard semi-seriously.

"Heh, really? That changes things then!" he said in a mixture of surprise and playfulness as he placed the tea bag in the cup.

"I'd like to do that too!" beetled Lisa with remarkable energy.

"Not a chance Lisa. You're too young to be using the internet." said uncle Leonard as he placed the cup intended for Richard in front him. "Make sure to stir it, Richard." Said uncle Leonard as he sat on his chair, motivated by the news finally starting.

Richard took a sip from his cup of tea mechanically. He never used to watch the news as he found it utterly boring, although company did make it more tolerable.

"Good morning ladies and gentlemen! You're watching the morning news of HOUND channel!" an energetic and well-dressed host beamed through the TV screen, addressing his audience.

"There still is much commotion over the disappearance and subsequent death of Marcus Nieves two days ago. As of now no fingerprints have been found, in part thanks to the heavy rain as well as the murderer's cautiousness. Thus the murderer cannot be yet identified, although signs of struggle do confirm that…"

Richard took another sip, this time peering into the screen with great interest. He honestly doubted he'd hear anything substantial from the news report, but he was very curious nonetheless.

"Alison," the host said as a second window made its appearance, "tell us more about Marcus!"

"Of course!" said the woman as focus was shifted to her, "We're standing here in front of Jump City College where Marcus used to study before the thread of his life was tragically cut. The…"

Richard let a short snort escape his nostrils as several thoughts raced within his mind. He always hated how reporters and the media in general would overdramatize situations. Sure, a death was a death and undoubtedly a tragic event but Richard was of the opinion that even someone's death could be dramatized too much. Couldn't they just state the cold, hard truth and be done it with?

"...not to mention Randall, Marcus's pet angler fish which he adoringly cared for…"

Lisa was surprised when her older cousin started coughing intensively, probably as to not drown from his own tea. Uncle Leonard motioned to get up in assistance but Richard quickly recovered, reassuring his older relative with a gesture.

"…the Nieves household has been kind enough to share with us Marcus's portfolio and his stunning work."

And sure enough, the TV screen shifted through several character design images, heavily inspired from medieval fantasy. One particular image caught his attention. It was an angry troll brandishing an enormous club. He shivered as unpleasant memories that he wanted to forget resurfaced.

"Marcus was a fan of role playing games and studied Entertainment Arts aspiring to be a game developer one day. He wished to apply his enormous talent in order to show us a glimpse of his visions and creative genius."

The sound paused momentarily, followed by the host appearing once again on air.

"Gas prices are on the rise once again as…"

Richard took a quick sip from his tea and hurriedly got up, hoping the walk to school would help him take his mind off the matter.

"Hey Richard, there's no need to rush." said uncle Leonard reassuringly, "I can drop you off school, like Lisa." he offered.

"Nah, it-it's ok… I like walking anyways…!" he responded rather awkwardly, his face radiating with concern.

Richard could feel his uncle apprehending his body language. Nevertheless he was truly thankful when his uncle had responded with a casual "See you later then!"

And so Richard headed upstairs to get dressed and retrieve his backpack, the half-empty cup of tea on the table a testament to his hurry.

…

Richard was sitting in the back row much like the day before. The classroom was almost empty just like yesterday, although Richard could spot a couple of new, unfamiliar faces. Besides Jillianne and the intimidating Flinders, one other person had caught his attention; a jock seated in the front row at the edge of the classroom eyed him intensively, until Richard had sat down.

Roy and Tramaine were still absent. Richard very much doubted he'd see any one of them today, although he did hope so. He hadn't met Garfield on the way like yesterday but he was positive he'd find him in the cafeteria after the bell ringed.

Although he never reciprocated Jillianne's glances towards his person during the entirety of the lesson, he was well aware of them. It was strictly a matter of choice that kept Richard's gaze nailed on the blackboard; he didn't feel confident enough to face her, not yet at least.

When the bell rang Richard did not hesitate one bit. He grabbed his backpack and soared through the school corridors with the cafeteria as his destination. Once there, it didn't take long for him to spot two lanky teens carrying their trays to a table by the large cafeteria windows.

As they sat, they noticed him closing the distance with own tray firmly in his grasp, and waved excitedly.

"Good morning dude!" greeted Garfield, followed by a more toned-down but still warm "Good morning!" by Tara.

Richard placed his tray in front of his seat and sat down, his fatigue due to his unsatisfying sleep fading away in the prospect of spending some time with his friends…

But could he call either one a friend? Admittedly, he had barely spent any time with Tara but what about Garfield? Sure, he could be obnoxious and immature but he more than made up for it with his inexhaustible energy and integrity.

Not only that but he had introduced Richard to Victor who was, as far as Richard could tell, Garfield's only friend in Jump City.

Obviously, Tara was a strong candidate for becoming one of Garfield's friends, although it was painfully obvious that the boy was hoping for something more…

He heard someone snapping his fingers.

"Huh…?"

"Yo dude! You kinda zoned out!" Garfield observed.

Richard produced a hum slightly irritated with himself. He must have been lost in his thoughts for quite a while for Garfield to feel the need to snap his fingers.

"Did you stay up until late or something?" Garfield asked in concern.

"No." Richard turned his head to gaze through the big windows. John Muir park was quite beautiful, even if the murder and the police patrols created a negative atmosphere.

"I didn't sleep very well though." He finished.

"Ah." Garfield nodded in empathy.

Richard had been avoiding thinking about the midnight channel as much as possible. Not only was it all so surreal as to make his head hurt, but he desperately felt he needed some time to come to terms with the traumatic experience of having his life threatened. Such thoughts caused images of the mysterious crow-knight, the ruined columns and the monstrous behemoth to resurface. He would have been dead if it wasn't for…

"Derzelas…" he whispered to himself.

"Huh? Come again?" Garfield expressed his increased concern, this time Richard feeling Tara's persistent line of sight being focused upon him.

"N-nothing…" said Richard dismissingly.

"Ummmm…" he stammered as he tried to think of a topic they could talk about.

"Oh yeah!" his features brightened as the epiphany hit him, "Are we going to Senor Hot Dog today? Maybe Tara could come too." he glanced towards the blond girl.

Richard was caught by surprise by what followed. Garfield's face immediately darkened as he lowered his head, staring at the contents of his tray.

"Ehm… I'm sorry guys… I kinda have to be home early today." He said with apparent regret, his voice completely neutral.

"O-oh hey…! That's alright! We could go some other time!" Richard said reassuringly, perplexed over Garfield's sudden mood change. Tara placed her hand on his shoulder as a means of comfort.

Fortunately, it didn't take long for Garfield to have a change of perspective. He looked up with a grin and declared that they'd definitely go next week, and promised Tara she'd get to meet Victor who was "pretty friggin' awesome" as he put it.

Richard's mind was not completely relieved of its original worries. However he had the realization that both he and Garfield had ultimately opted not to share what had bothered them. "Maybe it's just better that way…" he thought, and couldn't help but feel inexplicably bitter.

Now it was Garfield's turn to change the subject.

"…so I saw these fencing club posters…" he began, obviously in an effort to gather his thoughts, "I'm game... what about you guys…?

"Honestly, I'm not that interested…" Richard dismissed the proposal hastily. While he didn't feel particularly good about doing so, he wanted to forget everything that had to do with swords.

"I don't think I'll be joining any club, actually." said Tara.

"Damn… you guys are no fun…!" Garfield chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

Richard wasn't sure if the response was genuine, or if Garfield was suppressing the full extent of his disappointment that he desired not to reveal. He relaxed however as his mind came up with another topic to bring up.

"Roy and Tramaine didn't show up today…" Richard remarked.

"Yeah, neither did Argent." Garfield placed his hands on the back of his neck, looking at the ceiling.

"Oh, she's in your class?" Richard asked. He hadn't considered the possibility until now, although it wasn't improbable at all.

"Yeah!" Garfield chuckled, "I'm sure they'll start attending by next week, like most folks."

"Does any one want water?" Tara got up and grasped her tray.

"I could use a glass of water actually," said Richard with gratitude, "thanks!"

"No problem!" she smiled, "What about you Garfield?"

The absent-minded boy waved his hand dismissingly as he stared at the table's wooden surface, obviously absorbed in deep thought. It was only when Tara had almost reached the tray case when the boy had a change of heart.

"Hey! Tara! Get me one too!" he shouted to the girl across the cafeteria.

She briefly stopped, turning to look at the boy signaling for her attention. She acknowledged him and continued on, only to collide with an obstacle that wasn't there before.

The sound of two trays hitting the ground and that of plates shattering was met with spirited clapping and whistling, generated by the minority that had decided to attend school today.

She looked down and then up again in shame, apologizing countless times. Richard and Garfield looked at the mess on the floor and the boy who was now eyeing Tara with palpable disgust and disrespect, both of them in shock.

"Watch where you're going weirdo!" he shouted.

Admittedly, he looked like your typical jock, dressed in extravagant red sports clothes now in dire need of being thrown into the washing machine.

Garfield swiftly got up from his seat and approached the scene in determination. Richard followed reluctantly, recalling the fact that he and the jock were classmates. This probably wouldn't end well.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he pointed to the stained floor. Tara was unable to look at him directly. Instead, she kept muttering that she was sorry, her eyes downcast.

"Get the fuck out of my way." He made half a step towards her, arms raised menacingly.

"Hey man," Garfield intervened placing his hands up defensively, "she said she's sorry! Chill!"

The boy took his eyes off the sobbing Tara, slowly orienting his eyes towards a short, lanky brown haired boy that had cemented itself between him and the girl. Initially, disbelief overtook his face, until it was replaced by even greater rage.

"Who are you? Her lawyer, or her boyfriend?" he pointed his index finger at Garfield, voice raised. By now, almost everyone else in the cafeteria had gathered around the three of them in total silence, fixated on observing the scene. This made Richard, who was in the front row of the crowd by now, feel even more uncomfortable.

"She said she's sorry dude! She didn't do it on purpose!"

"You think I fucking care? Look at what she did to my clothes!" he snapped at Garfield, pushing him away with his arms. Garfield fumbled a considerable distance – he almost fell on the surrounding crowd – before he regained his composure. Instead of being intimidated, this act of minor violence only served to aggravate him.

"What the hell is your problem, you fucking jock stereotype?!"

The crowd reacted vividly to Garfield's verbal counter. Richard felt the cafeteria echo with whistling, oohing and several statements along the line of: "Are you gonna take that?" If things had a possibility of getting worse before, it now was cemented in certainty.

"Everyone stop! That's enough!"

The tall boy had long, black hair that reached down to his waist, his face radiating a calm strength as he addressed the crowd and the infuriated jock.

"What the hell do you want Galloway?" he spat.

"Adonis." He said calmly, gathering his thoughts, "Come on now, that's enough don't you think? It was clearly an accident."

"I don't care. Have you seen this mess?" he gestured at his clothes and the floor.

"But is it worth it? Her, crying like this over it?" he was referring to none other than Tara, who was sobbing audibly, an infuriated Garfield protectively at her side.

Adonis looked left and right slightly with a frown, obviously conflicted by an internal debate.

"Fine." He said, his face mellowing somewhat. "You better watch your back, new guy." He turned his back on Tara and Garfield as he made his way through the disappointed crowd, heading for the restroom.

The crowd quickly dissipated as the boy urged Garfield, Tara and Richard to have a seat while a cleaning lady moved over to the tray on the floor, shaking her head in disapproval.

"Please excuse Adonis, I'm sure he meant no harm. There are days he's rather irritable, causing him to act…" the young man had paused, brainstorming for the proper words as he looked over a quite distressed Tara, his hand on her shoulder.

"Like a fucking jock stereotype." finished Garfield, pleased with himself despite the inexhaustible rage, persistently seething under the surface.

Richard let out a chuckle while Tara freed her reddened face from the hands, her sobbing notably decreasing in frequency.

"Well, that is ONE way to look at it." He conceded as a gentle smile gave his lips a new shape. "Welcome to Jack London by the way. I'm Garth Galloway… I'm responsible for the swimming team!"

"That's pretty cool! I'm Richard!" he said as he extended his hand for a handshake. Garth reciprocated eagerly, "I'm glad to meet you Richard!"

"I-I'm Tara" the blond girl giggled nervously at the sight of the handsome boy looking over her, and followed suit in extending her arm for a handshake.

Garth was surprised, but not negatively. "So you're feeling better now, I hope…"

"Yes!" she smiled, moving one seat to the side (wordlessly urging Garfield to do the same) so that Garth could have a seat as well.

Garfield's reaction was considerably less animated, however. He simply declared his name, his hands intertwined at the back of his neck.

"By the way," began Garth vividly, "we're having auditions for the swimming team starting next week. You guys should consider coming!"

"Yeah! Totally!" giggled Tara.

"Eh… well…" Richard trailed off. But before he could finish his sentence, Garfield got abruptly up.

"Going back to class folks. Don't wanna be late." He said neutrally.

Richard turned to look at the departing brown-haired boy. He did have an idea of what had happened, but did Tara? Did Garth? The boy's neutral expression did not reveal much…

…

Richard had been sitting by the fancy school gate for about two minutes now, in hopes spotting Garfield. But as the minutes passed Richard started to wonder if the agitated boy had set off for home immediately. After all, he did mention he had to be home early, so there probably wasn't time for them to hang out today.

He sighed deeply and began the way home, satisfied with the prospect of relaxing at home after such an eventful day. So when an all too distinctive feminine voice called out for him he didn't turn around, but simply froze in his tracks in reluctant anticipation.

"Yo! New kid! Hey!"

The source of the voice was much closer now.

The distinctly looking pink-haired girl popped up from his left, somewhat irritated.

"Hey, didn't you hear me?" she crossed her arms.

"A-ah, hey there. W-what's up?" he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, trying his best to dodge the question.

"Whatever. I didn't get to give your stuff back from yesterday. You kinda disappeared." She said with a hint of accusation as she rummaged her backpack. "Just a sec."

The only one missing right now was Jillianne's rather conspicuous friend; he sure hoped he wouldn't show up, but today wasn't his day, apparently.

"Yo J!" he waved at them as he approached. He stood before a nervous Richard and a seemingly oblivious Jillianne who was still rummaging her backpack.

"Ya comin'?" he inquired, his voice deep with a bestial quality.

"Go on… I won't… take… too… long…" she shook her bag in frustration.

"Yah whatevs. Just use protection, k?"

"Fuck off Baran." She said as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Richard, on the other hand, was staring at the ground in apparent embarrassment.

Apparently satisfied with the remark, Baran departed with a hearty laugh coming out of his lips.

"Here it is!" she produced Richard's pen.

"Heh, thanks!" he put the pen in his backpack, making sure the zipper was closed shut, "Most never remember to give these back. I've lost countless pens that way…" he chuckled.

"Glad to hear that." She paused, evaluating her statement.

"Eh-ok, I mean… you get the idea! So… what happened today? Did Adonis almost beat the crap out of your friend?"

"Uh… our friend Tara knocked his tray off – it was an accident – and Garfield stood up for her…" he shrugged.

"Damn… if only that idiot Garth hadn't intervened… it's been a while since we had a fight in school – not that it'd last long." She grinned.

"Umm… you like fights?"

"Of course! Who doesn't?"

"Errr… those who get hurt?" he scratched the back of his head.

"Good point." She conceded absent-mindedly.

"So… it doesn't look like you've been hanging out with the right people, if you catch my drift."

"A-ah yeah. Sorry… I appreciate the offer though."

"That's too bad, I guess."

"Umm, by the way, have you heard about Marcus Nieves?"

"Who?"

"Eh, you know, the boy that they found dead…"

"What about him?"

"Well… I was kinda wondering if you knew anything about it…"

"Why should I?"

"Well uh… you kinda look like the type of person that knows what's going on… and…"

"And?"

"…forget about it…"

"Listen, I'm gonna give you one piece of advice: if you wanna stay out of trouble, act like it."

"Uh… o-ok…"

"You're welcome!" she smiled with pretense sweetness, "Bye!"

He stared in the distance as she ran off, presumably to catch up with Baran.

…

Richard unlocked the door, setting foot into the barely illuminated household. He closed it behind him and took his shoes off, placing them in the designated "shoe place" as uncle Leonard called it. Despite the sound he had caused, he could see no-one, nor hear anything coming from any other room.

"I'm home!" he announced as he grasped his backpack on his right hand.

No response.

He looked left and right as he approached the kitchen table; a bag with take-out lay invitingly. Uncle Leonard had probably gotten it while getting Lisa home, Richard thought. He begun to ascend the stairs to his room as the eerie silence enveloped him like a snake.

The backpack was unceremoniously tossed on the bed, bouncing faintly on the sheets.

Now unburdened, the boy focused his attention on the matter at hand. Both Lisa and Uncle Leonard should have been home by now, so where was everybody?

He knocked on the door of his uncle's bedroom; there was no response. He opened it anyway as curiosity got the better of him, only to be greeted by an empty, dark room.

He then oriented his gaze towards the door to Lisa's room. The wooden door was adorned by a non-descript girly illustration attached to it.

He quietly closed the gap between himself and the door, his eyes fixated on the childish piece of art. He examined it at length trying to make sense of it.

It was your typical fairy from what he could make out; pink dress, wings and crown. However what caught the boy's attention was a smaller fairy next to the big one; it was wearing a blue dress. He sighed and knocked on the door.

He stood there in total silence for a couple of minutes, his mind completely devoid of any thought, expecting to hear something. He had completely dismissed giving the drawing a second look all that time he was being accommodated in his uncle's house.

The voice he heard coming through the door was not one telling him to come in; it was very faint, like a whisper, and periodic too. He inwardly debated his desire to open the door nonetheless and despite the fact that he felt quite uncomfortable, he pushed it open in a peak of courage.

Little Lisa was vacantly staring at him, her head protruding above a girly dollhouse. Richard returned the vacant gaze, unsure about how to act. A few moments passed and much to Richard's inconvenience, she returned focused her attention to her toys once again, just as vacantly.

"Uh, h-hi Lisa…" he broke the awkward silence.

"…hi…" she whispered, her gaze fixed on the dollhouse.

"Where's dad?" he inquired, his hands nervously grasping the door.

"…daddy is at work…"

"Ah, I see… what are you playing?"

"I'm playing with Barbara and Kevin!" she declared as she looked up, her face slightly brightening up, "They are married, and Kevin is always near her so that nothing happens to her." She finished a little more slowly.

"…they must really love each other…!" was all that Richard could come up with at the moment.

"Mhm!" she nodded, smiling.

…

Richard was staring at the ceiling of his room, the sheets reaching up to his waist and his hands behind his neck, his mind insistent on chewing over the events of the day.

Had he messed up during the incident with the jock guy? Should he have supported Garfield more? Stand up for him not only to the jock, but also Garth as well? Was it a factor that caused Garfield to leave the table like that?

He got up and turned the pillow upside down. He felt its cold, refreshing surface calm him down just a little bit.

It had frustrated him how he had paid absolutely no attention to the drawing on Lisa's door. Of course, he had made sure not to mention Lisa's mother out of respect, but he'd be lying to himself if he said the topic didn't interest him.

It went without saying that both father and daughter missed the woman, but not seeing any evidence of it disturbed him. Until now, anyway. Lisa's drawing was such evidence and in a way, proof that the woman had existed at some point, and that they missed her.

Apparently satisfied with the analysis, his mind allowed him to finally fall asleep.

…

He woke up to a blurry plethora of shades of blue and the sound of faintly howling winds. He closed his eyes again, dissatisfied with prospect of coming face to face with the mysterious Igor once again.

When he finally opened his eyes he was greeted by the sight of none other than Igor, looking at him expectantly.

"Greetings, Mr. Richard. It is my pleasure to have you once again here, in the Velvet Room." He said with a melodic, captivating voice.

"Umm, hi…!" Richard fidgeted nervously in his seat.

"It appears your power has grown significantly after our last session. That is most excellent news, no?"

"W-wait… are you referring to…" Richard struggled, unable to put his thoughts into words.

"The persona that you have awakened is a very special manifestation of a portion of who you truly are. It is a façade, so to speak, that can be used to face the hardships of life." Igor elaborated, his eyes looking back at Richard's intensively.

Richard looked down into his lap in disbelief.

"Then… the Midnight Channel… all of it was real…?" he inhaled deeply.

"Mr. Richard, it would appear that you are… agitated. Would a drink ease your mind, perhaps?" Igor inquired.

"I… guess so…" Richard rubbed his forehead in uncertainty.

Igor raised his hands to face-level and clapped twice.

Richard heard the characteristic sound of heels walking across the jet floor. As the source of the sound got closer and closer, an elegant air hostess dressed in blue appeared in sight, presumably coming from a frontal area of the plane.

"Mr. Richard, I'd like you to meet my dearest assistant, Catherine." He introduced the woman in blue, gesturing towards her person, "She is a resident of this place, like myself."

She had long, wavy black hair that contrasted with her pale skin. Her nose was big, but her face overall was nonetheless very feminine, having a quite majestic quality about it. Richard stared at her, as if she reminded him of something or someone. She in turn, returned the stare; he felt as if he was being scanned by the intensity of her gaze.

"Greetings. I 'm Catherine." she nodded in the slightest as to greet him, her voice deep yet feminine, her expression neutral.

"I am here to accompany you on your journey, dear guest." She smiled.

"Catherine, would you be kind enough to get us something to drink? I wish that our guest feels as welcome as possible." He said, his eyes not moving away from Richard.

"Of course." She bowed, her face adorned by a faint, serene smile, "What will you be drinking?"

"I believe the situation calls for two glasses of Clairette de Die."

"Right away." She left the two of them alone once again.

"Mr. Richard, I believe that it is expectant of you to have questions in regards to recent experiences, correct?"

"Well… what can you… tell me about the midnight channel? And those monsters inside it?"

At that point Catherine returned with two glasses in one hand, a bottle in the other.

"I think you must be referring to the Shadow World. It is a realm parallel to your own that is inhabited by shadows."

Catherine handed Igor his glass, then it was Richard's turn.

"Shadows?" he inquired, his eyes captivated by the sparkling wine being poured.

"Yes." Igor nodded as Catherine poured some sparkling wine into Richard's glass.

"T-thank you." He addressed the assistant.

"You're welcome." she smiled and left the two of them alone once again.

"Shadows stem from the repressed emotions and thoughts of human beings." Igor brought the glass under his nose, savoring its scent.

"Unfortunately," he continued, "they are quite hostile to human life – only those with the inner strength to summon forth a persona can hope to defend themselves." He took a sip, his eyes still fixated on the boy.

"Which brings us to why you have been summoned here at the moment. The contract dictates that we should help you in this endeavor, Mr. Richard."

"I never…I don't… I don't want to be a part of this…" he let the words escape him, exhaling deeply his face disfigured by a stressful expression.

"…I just want to be normal…" he said after several moments.

"Mr. Richard, I understand your hesitation. However, no matter how hard the task may seem, this may be the chance you have subconsciously been calling out for years, to be given to you."

"I-I understand that…" Richard sighed, "I'll need to think about this." He took a sip from his glass; he didn't like it very much.

"Of course. I am fairly certain you will have made up your mind by the time our next session is in order."

"…yeah…" he took yet another sip and winced.

"Sorry… I don't drink too much alcohol. I'm not used to it…" he conceded.

"No need to apologize. It is an acquired taste, after all. Until next time, my dear guest."

Richard's vision twisted beyond recognition as the dream changed. He mumbled something incoherent in his sleep.

 **...**

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES**

 **Special Thanks to the Mysterious Beta Reader who does not want acknowledgement; He/she was great help in regards to this chapter and I look forward to working with him/her in the chapters to come!**

 **Special Thanks to Shaq for sharing his passion for fanfiction and the persona series with me!**


	8. Sons of Sisyphus

**"The struggle itself [...] is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy."**

 **Albert Camus**

…

Richard had been standing just outside the Wayne/Kent subway exit for some time now; Garfield was nowhere near in sight.

Richard wasn't one to use the subway often. The subway entrance closest to uncle Leonard's house was en route to Jack London, but it also was the closest one to the institute itself. Seeing as the subway didn't happen to facilitate Richard's needs, he had little reason to ever ride it.

Until now.

Richard, slightly concerned for his energetic peer, had texted Garfield during the morning. One thing led to another and the boys had scheduled a rendezvous at this very station for the late evening.

So when an unexpected hand rested itself upon his shoulder, it went without saying that Richard was initially surprised – and then annoyed. He turned around to face a grinning Garfield who was palpably satisfied with himself.

Richard sighed in minor irritation grabbing the back of his neck. Even so, he couldn't help but let out a small smile.

"So… I guess this is the second time…" Richard trailed off.

"Hey, at least your clothes are still clean!" Garfield responded smugly.

"So where are we going?" Richard asked curiously.

Garfield's eyeballs looked upwards as he supported his chin on his right hand.

"Well, we're going to that park over there," he pointed to a direction behind Richard, "there's a hill that's pretty cool to hang out at!"

Richard turned around. There was a park on his right that he hadn't paid much attention to before. To his left, cars were perpetually going back and forth on the same avenue that Richard used to traverse on his way to school.

The sun was about to set and a gentle breeze was caressing his black hair. He stood there in awe enjoying the sight of the sunlight being reflected by the numerous buildings on either side of the road, the horizon having a slight, red tint.

"Come on dude, let's go!" Garfield moved forward, prompting Richard to catch up.

Before the grassy hill stood a rather plain, inscripted statue surrounded by lots of open space. Numerous middle schoolers and families were enjoying the locale, with a handful of couples etched upon the hill.

"Victor will be here soon – he had stuff to do…" Garfield said to no-one in particular. Richard nodded by reflex.

They started going up the hill, headed for a somewhat secluded spot further away from all the others. All the while, Richard could feel the humid grass stroking the soles of his shoes with every step. It was a peculiar sensation; pleasant, yet awkward.

Eventually Garfield settled on an unclaimed spot; Richard joined him swiftly.

"So…" he began as he sat next to Garfield, "everything alright at home?" he asked vaguely.

"Huh?" Garfield said absent-mindedly taking in the view. Richard decided not to press the matter right away; he inhaled deeply and joined Garfield in taking in the view. Now that he couldn't hear the traffic, the whole scene seemed truly serene.

It wasn't long before Richard decided to elaborate.

"I mean, you said you couldn't come with us on Friday…"

"Oh yeah!" Garfield shifted somewhat uncomfortably on the grass.

"I had to help my mother with the house..." he said with an uneven smile.

"Ah, right…" Richard rubbed the back of his neck, "to be honest I haven't been helping much at home…"

"It's alright dude! It's just that… my mother's been kinda busy lately… so yeah…" Garfield looked over to the horizon once again.

"Same deal with my parents really…" Richard re-adjusted himself on the grass while enjoying the view, "Primarily the reason why I moved here to stay with my uncle…"

Garfield's head shot up slightly at the statement. He slowly turned to look at Richard. He hesitated a bit before expressing himself.

"Oh…! You live here with your uncle?"

"Yeah…"

"I had no idea…"

"I guess I should have mentioned it sooner…" conceded Richard, "but you live here with your parents, right?" he took advantage of the situation to learn more.

"Just my mom… I don't speak to my father often… they're divorced." Garfield revealed neutrally.

"Oh… sorry for bringing it up…" Richard looked away in an effort to manage his guilt.

"Nah, it's alright dude. It's been like that ever since I can remember…" he smiled.

"Besides… they're very different people…" he added as an afterthought.

Richard could not find anything meaningful to add to the conversation, and silence reigned yet again. As the sun began to set, the sky was overtaken by a majestic gradient of orange. The temperature started to drop, but only a little.

"So, that Adonis guy… he's in my class…!" Richard mentioned in an effort to revitalize the conversation.

"Dude! Really now?" Garfield turned to face his peer, disbelief apparent in his face.

"Err – yeah…"

"He didn't do anything douchey, did he?" Garfield asked very interested.

"No, not really…" Richard said dismissingly, "I can't help being wary of him though…"

"Nah dude…" Garfield chuckled, "there's nothing to be afraid of!"

"Well I wouldn't say I'm afraid of him or anything… he just seems… unstable…" Richard said as he changed his posture on the grass, "if anyone should be afraid of him, it's you Garfield." He smiled awkwardly.

"I guess so…" Garfield conceded absent-mindedly.

"You're not worried? At all?" Richard expressed his disbelief.

"Nah. I mean, it's not like I could take him or anything, but on the other hand, if he ever wants a fight, he's going to have it!" Garfield punched the palm of his hand fiercely.

"What can I say…" Richard said thinking deeply, "I guess you're brave. Braver than I am anyway…"

"Well…" Garfield sighed deeply in an effort to collect his thoughts, "Think about it this way: the worst thing that could happen is me getting bruised pretty badly… no big deal, really…"

He then ran his left hand over his hair, trying to come up with words to explain further.

"Physical pain sucks dude. But there are worse kinds of pain out there…" he smiled.

"…you have a point I guess…" Richard relaxed.

"The one who really gets on my nerves though is that Garth guy! God damn hipster!"

"Huh? Why?" Richard asked, feigning ignorance. Although he wasn't sure, he definitely had an idea on why Garfield would dislike the leader of the swimming team.

"Well, didn't you see how he sucked up to Tara?"

"I-I don't know…" Richard began slowly, thinking of ways to convey his statement as well as possible, "to be honest, I thought the opposite was true."

"What do you mean?" Garfield turned his torso to face Richard.

"…w-well… she was the one to say she wouldn't join any clubs… but she kinda changed her mind when Garth mentioned the swimming team…" Richard scratched the back of his head as he finished his statement.

Garfield opened his mouth as if to retort, but paused unexpectedly. He closed his mouth slowly and turned to face the view, his expression unreadable, leaving Richard to ponder whether he did the right thing or not.

"Whatever…" he said apathetically.

"Speaking of girls…" Garfield perked up suddenly as his voice took a suggestive tone, "do we have any update on that Jillianne chick?"

"Actually we did speak yesterday…" Richard sighed, not particularly fond of going through with the upcoming conversation.

"Alright!"

"…she just wanted to return my pen to me, really…" Richard downplayed the described event as much as possible.

But Garfield would hear none of it.

"She totally likes you dude! Is she pretty?" Garfield asked, his voice overflowing with enthusiasm.

Richard was about to speak whatever came to his mind, when he stopped abruptly. What did he think of Jillianne? She was definitely quite pretty, although pretty wasn't the word that popped to his mind instinctively in the mention of her name. That would probably be something along the lines of brash or showy. And yet, despite the intensity of her behavior Richard couldn't help but feel some sort of attachment to her. Perhaps the two of them were friends in some fashion?

As for her appearance, she was definitely among the most beautiful girls he had ever seen, although he still couldn't bring himself to appreciate her choice in attire.

"Yeah," Richard said, smiling, "she's pretty alright, just not my type."

"Not your type?" Garfield wondered out loud, "Come on dude!"

"I dunno… I just don't see her that way…" Richard rubbed the back of his head, entertained by the flow of the discussion.

"I don't believe I've seen her…" said Garfield rubbing his chin, "what is she like…?"

"Well… she has pink hair…"

"W-wha?" Garfield blurted out.

"Yeah!"

"No way! It's not natural is it?" Garfield grinned.

"I'm not asking." Richard responded resolutely.

"Hahahahaha! That's alright dude! I will!" Garfield said, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Don't you remember what Victor said?" Richard asked.

"Come on dude! All you have to do is introduce me to her!" Garfield pleaded.

Richard ran a hand through his hair wondering what was wrong with the boy next to him.

"Sure." He finally said.

"What are you guys doing?" said a deeper voice behind the two.

"Vic!" Garfield sprang up.

And sure enough Victor was standing behind the two of them, benevolently towering over both of them, a supermarket bag in his right hand. He was dressed in a grey jacket and was wearing a red cap. Maybe Victor liked wearing caps?

"Hey Gar, Richard, what are you guys up to?" he asked with a smug yet friendly smile as he moved to sit close to Garfield.

"Richard was telling me about his exploits with that Jillianne chick!" Garfield exploded like a rocket over Victor who was just getting comfortable on the grass.

"Uuhhhhhhhh…" was all Richard could muster.

"Really?" asked Victor as he started rummaging through the contents of his bag.

"Well nothing really happened…" explained Richard, "she just returned a pen she had borrowed…"

"Dude, this is how stuff like that happens!" interjected Garfield with radiating energy, "Totally!"

"Garfield that's enough, let him finish will ya?" said Victor as he presented a beer can that had probably originated from within the bag, "I bought a beer for each of us by the way. Pretty light stuff. You don't mind, do you Richard?" Victor shifted his body forward so that Garfield would not interpolate between the two.

Richard could count the times he had drank beer in the fingers one hand; he didn't enjoy alcohol very much. All the times he had gotten drunk was because of peer pressure, much like now. However both Garfield and Victor seemed like trustworthy people, and Richard finally came to the conclusion a non-committing response was the best option.

"W-well, I guess trying wouldn't hurt…" he responded diplomatically.

"Nice!" Garfield formed a thumps up, "Honestly I don't drink much either, but I don't mind the occasional light beer!"

"Yeah this is not just light… it's baby stuff. They better not see me drinking this stuff…" Victor smiled smugly as he passed a beer to Garfield.

"Pfft whatever dude…" Garfield said in mock-protest as he in turn passed the beer to a reluctant Richard. Garfield's grin and sparkling eyes could not be hidden; Richard thought the whole scene was very endearing.

He opened the can and took a small sip. He immediately found out he wasn't a fan and that he'd probably take a very long time to finish it, but at least it was far lighter than whatever he had in The Velvet Room.

"So…" Vic trailed off, "any news?"

"Heh, plenty actually!" Garfield took a sip.

"You didn't get into trouble again, did you?" Victor asked, eyebrow raised. Richard was initially surprised at the correct assumption, but came to the likely conclusion that it was because Victor had one whole summer to figure out that his younger friend could be somewhat too daring for his own good.

At any rate, he was quite happy he longer had to elaborate about Jillianne, seeing as the subject had been seemingly forgotten.

"Dude! It totally wasn't my fault! Rick, tell him!" Garfield pleaded with an energetic look, eyes fiery.

Richard initially froze at the request. Why should he be the one to describe what happened? Could Garfield be indirectly asking for support because Victor would not believe him?

"He's… right actually…" Richard began reluctantly, "it honestly wasn't Garfield's fault…" he conceded timidly.

"I gotta say… I'm genuinely taken aback…" Victor snarked, clearly enjoying every moment of it. After a small interval of silence, Victor continued, "So what are you guys waiting for? Fill me in!"

Garfield looked over to Richard prompting him to narrate instead once more. Richard took the hint and inhaled deeply, gathering his thoughts.

"Well… we were hanging out with Tara in the school cafeteria… she got up to deposit her tray but fell on another guy… He was a real jerk about it and Garfield stood up for her…" Richard narrated.

"Besides…" he added after a bit more thought, "fucking jock stereotype is a real classic…!"

Garfield palpably swole in pride, whereas Victor did his best not to choke on his beer as a result of unanticipated laughter. As a result, he produced an awkward mixture of laughter and coughing for several minutes before asking a most crucial question.

"Wha – who the hell did you call that?" he almost shrieked.

"Some Adonis guy, real prick." Garfield said casually, feigning disinterest.

"Wait! What? Adonis?" Victor shrieked once more, eyes wide.

"It's Greek," Garfield began elaborating, "according to legend…"

"No! No that's not what I meant!" Victor cut him off, "Was it really Adonis? Adonis Goldstein?"

Garfield rubbed his chin intensively. "Dunno." He finally said turning to Richard, "Isn't he in your class, though?"

"Yeah." Richard nodded eagerly, "My surname is Grayson, so that most likely means…"

"It means," Victor interjected, voice raised, "that stickman over here called the mayor's son a stupid name!"

"Whoa!" Richard produced involuntarily in surprise, "Really now?" he looked at Victor, eyes wide.

"Yup…" Victor nodded several times, lips tucked in, "Gar did it again…"

"Dude why should I care?" Garfield protested, "That's no way to behave, even if you're president!" he snorted audibly. "Mayor's son? Big deal!"

"He really was kind of a jerk…" Richard commented.

"I'm not denying that," explained Victor, "but being new, the best thing you can do is to keep a low profile and a cool head!"

Garfield scratched the top of his head. "But why though?" he asked in genuine wonder.

"You're not going to have a good school year if you build a reputation like that. People won't want to hang out with you." Victor insisted, "Trust me on this."

"I don't care." Garfield said bitterly as he brought the can to his mouth. "Besides, I already have a friend." He pointed towards Richard as he brought the can down.

"He doesn't count Gar! He's new like you!" Victor exploded, "And by being reckless like that, you're going to hurt his reputation as well!"

Silence settled and for quite some time, none cared to disrupt it. By now it was night and the breeze that had welcomed Richard had turned into a chilly wind.

"Alright… what else…?" Garfield inquired rhetorically in an effort to re-ignite conversation.

"Everything all right at work, Vic?" Garfield asked.

"I guess…" Victor shrugged, "same old, same old, you know… helping my old man with Senor Hot Dog…"

"Twelve hour shifts ain't the best thing in the world…" Vic snorted, "but you gotta do what you gotta do…!"

"But, dude…you need to go to college!" Garfield stated matter of factly.

Victor winced and snorted loudly, his face hardening considerably.

"Look, we've talked about this…" he said after a moment of hesitation, "I don't like this either. But I have to help my old man with Senor Hot Dog…"

Victor stayed silent for several for several moments, playing with his almost empty can of beer, and rotating it.

"You can't always do things at your own pace, man…" Victor whispered, almost. "Life has its own rhythm and you gotta keep up…" he justified himself solemnly.

"I'll enroll once things get better…" he declared as an afterthought.

"Promise." Garfield demanded, smiling brightly, "Mars won't colonize itself." He chuckled.

Victor kept his gaze fixated on his can of beer. A smile started appearing on his solemn face, his eyes softening.

"Save your cheesy one-liners for Tara!" he smirked.

…

Although the night wasn't without its fair share of melancholy, Victor parted in very good terms, vaguely claiming he had business to take care of, but not before berating Richard for asking Jillianne about Marcus.

As Victor said, it was stupid and reckless as hell. Nevertheless, he was quite surprised to hear that Jillianne had warned Richard in her own way. When Victor got on his motorcycle, he was very skeptical.

Richard was quite thoughtful as well. Was Victor right about keeping a low profile at school? About asking around? And what sort of game was Jillianne playing? Evidence so far pointed out to her being – contrary to appearances – relatively harmless, but Richard didn't know what to think.

This led to Richard and Garfield wandering further down the avenue, gazing at the intoxicating city lights as they headed downtown. It wasn't long before the two boys came across a familiar face.

The young man was looking down as he strode in the opposite direction, the hood of his dark red jacket obscuring most his face. And yet, Richard recognized the stride somewhere. He just didn't know where.

When the stranger came closer he looked up, meeting eye to eye with the two boys.

"Hey…uh…Roy?" Garfield stammered as Richard came to a halt.

Roy, whose face was almost completely obscured, halted reluctantly, maintaining a neutral expression which gradually turned into a weak smile.

"Hey… what's going on?" Roy said somewhat nervously.

"Heh…well…just hanging out, really…" Garfield chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah…same here I guess." Roy responded unenthusiastically.

Silence reigned for a couple of moments. The three boys looked at one another nervously for a couple of moments.

"We didn't see you guys on Friday… it was… kind off desolate…" Richard said, testing the waters as he shifted his weight on one leg.

"Yeah, what a mess, huh?" Roy said, frowning. "Did you guys actually go or what?"

"Uh... yeah we actually did, but uh…" Richard trailed off, unable to appropriately finish his sentence.

Roy nodded in apparent disinterest, while Richard noticed Garfield bracing for something with the edge of his peripheral vision.

"Yeah, I'll be there on Monday so I guess I'll see you guys then." Roy started picking up on his stride as he raised his arm to wave goodbye.

"Hey! Dude!" Garfield jumped erratically on the spot in an effort to grab Roy's attention, "Did anything happen on Thursday? In the cafeteria?"

Richard tensed as Roy stopped on his track, his expression completely neutral.

"Uh, I remembered I had something urgent to do." Roy explained slowly. "Bad timing – I know…" he shrugged.

"Dude I was so worried!" Garfield went on, extending his arms forward expressively, "Plus the police had appeared and all that… it was weird…!"

"…definitely…" Roy mumbled as he looked around impatiently.

"Listen guys, I gotta get going." he added unenthusiastically, "See you guys on Monday, alright?"

"Right." Responded Garfield.

Richard merely nodded and watched Roy as he clumsily jogged up the avenue.

After several moments of walking in silence, Garfield started nodding intensively to himself, eventually expressing his inner thoughts by a rather inelegant "Nah, I ain't buying it…"

As if it was a meant as a response, police sirens came within hearing distance, followed by the patrol cars themselves which raced to the direction the boys were walking towards.

Thus, Richard and Garfield unanimously decided to call it a day, and turned back.

...

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES**

 **Once again I'd like to thank the Mysterious Beta Reader, who did a exemplary and shift work in proofreading the chapter above. I thank him very much and I hope he'll continue to assist me.**

 **Additionally, special thanks to Shaq, whom I love to discuss fanfiction with in general.**

 **It has been a long while since the last update. I'm glad to be back.**


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